


We Built Our Own World

by melonbutterfly



Series: We Built Our Own World [4]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon-Typical Violence, M/M, Romance, Slow Build
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-24
Updated: 2012-10-24
Packaged: 2017-11-16 23:19:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 67,727
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/544932
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/melonbutterfly/pseuds/melonbutterfly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What if instead of Mary, John died in the house fire? What if Castiel, to protect Anna, fell much sooner? What if Dean and Cas meet during Sam's first year at Stanford and start hunting together?</p>
            </blockquote>





	We Built Our Own World

Dean has not turned twenty-two yet when his mother tells him – him alone, Sam isn't even there, the coward – that Sam is going to leave. Sam is going to leave and attend university, Stanford in fucking California of all places, and she's going to terminate the contract for the flat they have rented and that they are currently living in and sell all their furniture, because what do they need a flat for if nobody's going to live there anyway?

Dean is confused about this for only one second – because what about him? – until he realizes that she expects he'll come to hunt with her full-time now, which is fine with him; at least one good thing about this fuckery, right? Except then she tells him that he can have the Impala, and the rest of Dean's world crumbles apart.

Because she and Dean and sometimes Sam have been going on hunts together for two years now; ever since she, at sixteen, deemed Sam old enough both to hunt and stay at home alone. Up until that point, she had only allowed them to come during school holidays and only on what she calls 'minor' hunts. Sometimes she left them on their own, but never for long. They are hunters, they grew into it, she took great care to ensure that they would be safe no matter what happens (to her, never said but always in the back of Dean's mind), but until Sam turned sixteen when Dean was twenty, they hadn't really deserved the title, in Dean's opinion.

But the last two years have been absolutely great; in hindsight, Dean thinks that that should have been his first indication that it wouldn't last. Because nothing ever lasts in Dean's life and up until now the only thing he could rely on had been his family; their mother had tried, really tried to give them as much stability as possible, but how could either of them ever feel completely safe with the yellow-eyed demon that killed their father still alive and out there?

Though apparently, Sam feels way safer than Dean does, if he has no qualms about leaving for university, intending to be a _lawyer_ of all things. A fucking lawyer. Only Wallstreet would be worse, Dean thinks angrily.

He should be happy, probably. He has been wanting for her to take him serious for years now; he is four years older than Sam and yet hadn't been allowed to do more than hunt the occasional ghost until he was twenty. And of course he understood that Sam needed someone to take care of him (even though Sam himself did not agree), and he understood as well that their mother needed to know they were safe and healthy when she was out, but this – this is not what he wanted. For their family to fall apart like moldy bread; Sam going to Stanford, their home gutted and empty, his mother all over the place, hunting a ghost that cannot be banished with salt and fire. It feels like everyone he knew and trusted and felt safe with was suddenly on the quest for their own freedom, and Dean is being left behind in their wake, nothing but fucking collateral damage.

He doesn't say any of this, of course. Instead he nods and says "good for him" and "thanks", because he knows Mary loves the car for more than just its abilities and beauty; it's the only thing that is left of John Winchester, and in a way, it is more their home than the flat they spent the past three years in. And then he nods again and says he has to go to work, even though Mr. Barnes had no idea he was coming, but it's alright because he has no solid working hours anyway, and Barnes' Garage is the only place that would hire him under those conditions and still pay reasonably. He ducks away from his mother's understanding eyes and walks away, wishing he had a home to return to, but he doesn't anymore; he has the splinters of something that used to be home, held together by duct tape. Dean feels like he is the duct tape, and his mom and Sammy are the splinters, and he is stretched too thin because they both are pulling into different directions, both want to go away. He'll be left in tatters when they succeed.

*

The next time they meet – for dinner the next day, because Dean was at work deep into the night the day before and all afternoon that day, asleep while Sam was at school – Sam looks at him warily and vaguely guilty, as if he's expecting Dean to be angry, and that's wrong, so wrong. Dean wants his brother to be happy, and he isn't angry that Sam thinks he will find his happiness away from them, not really, not anymore. It hurts that Sammy thinks he would be that vindictive. It hurts more that Dean is not sure if he isn't right to be so.

That's why, while their mother fills their plates with casserole, when he says, "So, Stanford, huh?" and Sam nods tentatively, he reaches out and ruffles Sam's hair. Sam ducks away with a vaguely annoyed expression that is almost pavlovian by that point, and Dean says, "Good for you."

And it is, he thinks. It's not good for Dean, not really, but it's good for Sam that he has another dream to pursue, something he wants in life that has nothing to do with the dead, killing, murders and deaths and their dead father. Something for himself. Because Dean knows that somewhere along the way, he lost the ability to want anything but what he has, and now he's losing even that and he doesn't know what to do with himself anymore. Doesn't even know who he is.

*

Six months later, Dean isn't any closer to knowing who he is, or what he wants. Sammy has had his great prom just a week ago, and they're sleeping on the floor because the beds have been sold, along with almost everything else. Dean has reduced his wardrobe to one big duffel and brought the rest to a shelter, and Sam had donated most of his books (he had had fucking _tears_ in his eyes when he had taken them away, for heaven's sake); they don't really own anything anymore that they can't carry in a suitcase. It should feel like preparation to being a real hunter to Dean, but it only feels like he's slowly ripping out his roots, tendril after tendril; soon the wind will come and sweep him away, and it'll never let him down for long enough to grow new roots ever again. And every time he has worked himself up enough to be fucking _glad_ about it, because owning nothing means being way less vulnerable and as a hunter he can't afford being vulnerable in any way, his mother comes and sees right through his disguise and hugs him.

She hugs him a lot, lately. Sam too, but thankfully they manage avoid the having to hug each other, except on their birthdays, but that's mandatory and tradition and thus acceptable. Neither of them mention it, but they know they'll never be the same again; never again will they be as close as they have been, each getting on with their own lives (except Mary, but she has been in a kind of stalemate for so long Dean barely remembers what she was like when she was happy), each moving farther and farther away from the other. And Dean comes to the realization that this has had to happen; one way or the other, at one point one of them would have left, because three hunters is at least one too many, and it's part of growing up to leave the proverbial nest. It should actually be no surprise that Sam doesn't want this, either, because he has always been going along with them happily enough, but he had never been enthusiastic about it. Also, Sam hates being bossed around, depending on others or having others depend on him; it makes him aggressive, which would be perfectly acceptable if he were hunting on his own, but he isn't. In the end, however, what he's actually going to do isn't much different in its effect on Dean.

They spend the last week the flat's contract still holds being terribly lazy, watching TV and eating unhealthy crap (and it's awesome, because despite their sometimes erratic lifestyle, Mary has always insisted on a healthy diet, and pizza and fast food and most takeout were practically banned from their household whenever she was there), and then they do a couple of hunts over the next month. Their last one is an unexciting one, just an ordinary vengeful spirit, and before they know it Sam has only two weeks left before he has to be at Stanford. They spend those two weeks at the beach, and it's nice and carefree, like real holidays are supposed to be like. It feels good, except for how it's not going to last, but Dean tries not to think about that.

And then, all of a sudden, they're all driving to Stanford. It takes barely an hour to carry Sam's stuff into his dorm room, and then they're standing in a semi-circle, looking awkward and shifting nervously. Mary is the one who breaks first; she's visibly trying not to make a scene and hugs them both swiftly, though heartily, before she drives off in her car. That leaves Sam and Dean standing next to each other awkwardly, not looking at each other, until Dean shrugs it off, pats Sam on the back and looks him in the eye as he wishes him good luck. Sam calls him back when he turns to leave but in the end doesn't say anything besides, "Uhm, call me man, okay?"

Dean says he will, and then he's sitting in the Impala and driving away blindly, nowhere to go and nowhere to return to. He thinks he needs to get used to the feeling.

Well. No use wallowing in self-pity. He's a hunter. What he needs is something to hunt.

*

It's February, and Dean is in a lull. Over the past couple of months he has solved quite a lot of cases, close calls as well as harmless ones; some he has done together with his mother, some with Bobby Singer, an old friend of theirs (it took Dean ages to get over the habit of calling him 'Uncle Bobby'), but most he did alone. He's capable and able, still not the best at finding and researching cases (that was always Sam's forte, and their mother's; Dean mostly just went into the direction they pointed), but he's good. He has adapted to not having a home; it still feels sometimes as if there's a loss gnawing at him from the inside, a hole he just can't fill, but he's not drifting as much as he thought he would. He meets up with his mom and with Sam, visits Bobby or Ellen and Jo at the Roadhouse, and he's pretty much content again.

But right now, he's bored. A little more than a week ago was his birthday and he spent it with his mom and Sam; right after he went to take down a rampant witch in some unimportant little village in Oklahoma, but now he can't find anything to do. The problem is that he has great difficulties telling apart real cases from hoaxes from simple human-made evil; he has never really been able to notice the details that indicate the difference, unless they're obvious. But he doesn't always want to call Bobby or his mother and ask for jobs; that's not real independence, and he's trying to be a hunter on his own. Though how ridiculous is it to be a hunter incapable of finding cases?

So Dean decides to do what he always does when he doesn't know what else to do; he cheats.

Cheating, in this case, means driving to the Roadhouse under the pretence of visiting Ellen and Jo, or perhaps Ash, and since Ellen and the Roadhouse are something of a hub of all hunters, she is bound to have some cases he can solve. Maybe there'll even be something exciting, though he doesn't count on it. The witch-thing was already in the upper scale of exciting; he has probably filled his quota and has got to get rid of some ghosts first before he will get something interesting again.

Not that ghosts are boring; each case is different, exciting in its own right, and each ghost is a murderer and needs to get rid of, but still. Dean feels like he needs to stretch a little (he knows enough not to actually wish for some action; he's not suicidal).

He arrives at the Roadhouse on February third at around eight pm; it's a date he'll remember later, though right now, he barely knows what day of the week it is.

Jo and Ellen look happy to see him; he actually gets hugs from both of them and a promise for pie – birthday pie – the next day. They don't even need to force him to stay after that.

They spend a while exchanging stories; Dean from his own hunts, Ellen and Jo from others' and rumors of who is dead and who is new. He notices that Jo takes notes and asks about the details of his cases. When her mother is occupied otherwise, she tells him that she is writing her own journal for when she will be a hunter herself. Dean is both proud of her and scared – she's like a little sister to him, and she is too young – she should be braiding hair and riding ponies with her friends.

On the other hand, he feels way better knowing that she can defend herself, that she'll be able to take care of herself in case anything happens.

He answers her questions.

It's a week day, so Ellen can close up at around 3 am. Jo is in bed already because, despite her vehement protests, she has school the next day and Ellen won't let her skip. After they have cleaned up the bar they sit together for a while, just talking. Ellen has always mothered him a little, just like Mary has mothered Jo a little – Dean guesses his mother would have liked having a daughter too, and Ellen would have liked having a son as well. But it's alright; he feels like Jo is his little sister anyway, they spent a lot of time together as children, and when Sam and Jo were still very young they even lived together for a couple of months.

There's a cot in one of the back rooms that Dean sleeps in whenever he's there, and while it's not luxurious, it feels better than the faceless, empty motel rooms he usually spends his time in when he's not hunting.

*

It's early evening the next day, and Dean has helped Ellen with some stuff around the house, checked her car and the car Jo is going to drive as soon as Ellen gives it to her, and has devoured a whole birthday pie freshly baked by Jo and Ellen as soon as Jo came home from school. After Jo is done telling Dean all he never wanted to know about the silly girls she knows from school they sit in silence – Jo has asked too many questions about hunting for her mother's liking and now she's sullen. It's uncomfortable, but, well. With a brother like Sam, Dean is used to sullen silences and pouting.

They're sitting at a table and hunters have been steadily trickling in and out ever since Ellen opened up. Dean isn't paying much attention to them; it's not necessary, the Roadhouse is like a fortress. There won't get any uglies in and Dean doesn't know anyone better than by sight, maybe their names. It's not like his mom is on friendly terms with everybody; that's more Ellen's forte.

He's never before seen the guy who enters next, but that's not unusual. Dean doesn't live in the Roadhouse after all – at least not permanently. There's nothing unusual about the guy, except for how he moves not like the other hunters and at the same time exudes a confidence – a quiet, very unassuming confidence – that would have made Dean instantly wary if they hadn't been at the Roadhouse, which is as close as a safe haven as a hunter can get. Dean can see it in the way the other hunters' gazes sweep over the guy, dismissing him at first but then coming back to assess him more closely. It's subtle and Dean isn't sure someone who is not on their guard constantly (like hunters, soldiers, others of their mindset) would even notice, but to those who are, the guy definitely strikes a chord.

Not much of one, though. Dean looks the guy up and down once to assess the threat, notices the other hunters doing the same, and then turns back to the sullen teenage girl he's sitting with. He musters Jo for a moment, then sighs and sits back, crossing his arms. "How about you put that pout away, Princess Josephine, you're starting to give me the impression you would fit in better with Cheryl and her hive of cheerleaders."

Jo's full name isn't Josephine, of course, but then, neither is Sam's full name Samantha. Joanna-Beth and Sam don't make nice names for Princesses, though, so one has got to make concessions for the sake of art.

His "art" earns Dean a full glare, though he thinks it's more for the Cheryl comment than the Princess bit. It turns out he's right too, because Jo says, "Over my dead, rotting corpse will I sit at one table with that bitch."

"That's not what I hear happened at that prom committee meeting you both attended," Dean replies with amusement. He knows far too much about Jo's teenage girl woes. Why the fuck do they even need a prom committee?

"Oh, shut up, studmuffin," Jo shoots back. "I think I want that pie back."

"Over my dead, rotting corpse," Dean says, and he means it. Pies are serious business. Besides, he already ate the whole thing while it had still been warm.

Jo is prevented from a reply by Ellen, who calls Dean over to the bar where the guy with the flasher trench coat is standing. Seriously, didn't he learn the meaning of inconspicuous? A hunter tries _not_ to attract attention, and everybody who sees that coat will definitely notice the guy wearing it to be able to give an accurate description to the police later after the guy has robbed the bank/flashed that nice group of middle school children.

"Jimmy here is looking for a partner for a hunt," Ellen tells Dean, nodding her head towards the guy. "I figure, since you have nothing better to do than hang around and ruin my daughter, you could use some time off."

"Ellen, for heaven's sake." Dean is exasperated. "You know as well as I do that she'll not run off tomorrow to hunt down a vampire just because I told her how to off one. She's not stupid."

All Ellen does is narrow her eyes at him, making Dean decide it'll be safer to change topics; he knows that look. His mom would put it on when she suspected he was exposing Sam to the truth about monsters in the cupboard ( _there are none, but if you see a ghost, throw salt at it and come get me – of course ghosts are real, where do you think mom goes all the time?_ ).

"What kind of hunt?" Dean thus addresses flasher-guy – Jimmy, apparently.

"Vampires, as it were," Jimmy replies, blinking slowly. "A nest of seven. I figured it would be prudent to have some back-up before entering their hiding place."

The guy talks like he ate a thesaurus, and not in the way Sam does either – Sam at least still sounds like he's somewhat in touch with the rest of humanity, even if it's mostly the nerdy part. "Right. Taking on seven vampires on your own would be suicide." Actually, Dean isn't even sure they should taken on seven with just two of them; it still sounds pretty dangerous. He sure as hell isn't going to bring that up, though. Wouldn't do to seem like he's lost without his mommy to help him kill the evil things.

"Yes," Jimmy says with a slow nod.

"Great. Wanna go discuss the details?" Dean motions towards one of the empty tables far away from Jo.

"Yes. I'm just waiting for my hot chocolate," Jimmy informs him, turning back towards Ellen, who has moved off into the back.

Dean was sometimes raised in the Roadhouse, so the idea of getting a hot chocolate in a bar doesn't seem too far off to him; still, weird. "You sure you want to drive after that?" he jokes.

It earns him a glance from Jimmy. "I don't drink alcohol," he tells Dean, and hell if Dean doesn't sense some kind of story behind that. He's not good at the research, but he knows how to get people to talk, and to be able to do that you have to be able to tell when they're lying and when they want to say something more about something, but don't want to come right out and say it immediately. Jimmy's expression tells Dean that there definitely is something, but Jimmy definitely does not want to talk about it.

Curious. Then again, not so much; functioning alcoholism is almost something like a job hazard for hunters. Jimmy might be a recovering alcoholic, he wouldn't be the first one in their line of business; hell, not even in this bar. The others usually go for coffee, though, or soda.

Ellen coming back with a huge mug interrupts Dean's speculative train of thoughts; the hot chocolate, presumably. Dean can't be sure because there's a huge mountain of whipped cream on top, and even something like caramel syrup. Dean has never seen anything like it, much less gotten it from Ellen.

"There you go," Ellen says, pushing the mug over to Jimmy, who thanks her earnestly. Then he starts to make his way towards the table Dean gestured towards earlier, leaving Dean standing at the bar, trying out his apologetic face on Ellen. She leaves it just long enough for him to worry if he's in serious trouble, but eventually she huffs and hands him a bottle of beer. That she doesn't even tell him to never do it again tells Dean that she, while not liking it, at least accepts that it's better for Jo to at least theoretically know how to handle a monster.

Doesn't mean she won't be pissed with him anymore if he keeps helping Jo broaden her knowledge, so Dean figures he's lucky he has a hunt lined up now. When he comes back next time, it will hopefully be less of a big deal if he lets Jo interview him again.

"So," Dean says as he slides into the seat opposite Jimmy. "I'm Dean."

"James Novak," Jimmy introduces himself immediately, reaching across the table to shake Dean's hand. "Nice to meet you." It's awkward, especially when Dean feels like he needs to add his last name as well, since Jimmy did it, and also because now he doesn't know whether to call the guy Jimmy or James.

He decides to stick with Jimmy, because it sounds a lot less formal than James. The guy can complain if he doesn't like it.

"Tell me more about those vampires," Dean orders, leaning back in his seat and taking a swig of his beer.

Half an hour later, Jimmy has imparted all the information he has on the vampires – he's thorough, Dean's got to give him that. The guy is obviously even more nerdy than Sam; his brother probably wouldn't have included the fact that Lame Deer, Montana, was called Meave'ho'eno in Cheyenne. He also wouldn't have spelled it out for Dean and explained where exactly the name came from – Dean would have zoned out, had it been Sam pulling the intellectual superior on him, but Jimmy acted like it was relevant information. Dean's mom had drilled it into him early on to _listen_ when she is imparting important instructions, and Dean has a hard time not paying attention when somebody is staring at him like they were sharing the secrets of the Pope with him.

Still, it's not like Dean actually cares. "So!" he interrupts loudly when it looks like Jimmy is going to veer completely off-topic. "Seven vampires, two older ones, a mated pair, who're making themselves their own sweet little blood-sucking family. We should take care of them quickly."

"I agree," Jimmy says and gets up, making as if to leave momentarily.

"Whoa, whoa!" Dean says. "Hold your horses! We still have some essentials to clear."

It earns him a look, somewhere between displeased and confused, but Jimmy obediently sits down again. "Elaborate, please."

"Well." Dean flounders for a moment. "Whose car we'll take, for one. How are you on weapons?"

Jimmy hesitates, and Dean can relate. No hunter likes the idea of disclosing their arsenal, much less where in the car it's hidden. "I have a sufficient amount of dead man's blood, and I have a knife," Jimmy says eventually.

Which, fair enough, is all they need to take care of the blood-suckers. "I got some knives of my own," Dean replies. "What kind of car do you drive?"

"A Volkswagen Golf Mk4." Jimmy gives a decisive nod, like he's actually proud of it.

"Dude," is all Dean can say. "Dude. No. I'm not getting into that tin can. We're taking my baby."

"Your… baby," Jimmy repeats dubiously, and that, no.

"Come with me," Dean orders, getting up and striding out of the bar and to the back of it. It takes Jimmy a moment, but he follows Dean around the house, where Dean has parked the Impala in the non-official parking lot. The sky is awash with reds and oranges and pinks, not sufficient enough anymore to see her in all her glory, but no matter the light conditions, Dean's car is a real beauty.

"This is it," Dean says, turning around and spreading his arms in front of the Impala. "My sweetheart."

To his credit, Jimmy doesn't act as if Dean's attitude towards his car is anything out of the ordinary; Dean only hopes that's not because the guy has a similar relationship towards his own car. A certain closeness between man and machine is inevitable if you're constantly on the road, as many hunters are, but seriously. Nobody should love a Golf.

Slowly, Jimmy's eyes sweep over the Impala; Dean crosses his arms and tries to hide his proud grin but probably isn't even remotely successful. His mom had always said his relationship with the car was excessive, but what did she know. She had never even fully looked at the car; if it hadn't been for Uncle Bobby keeping it safe, Dean highly doubts he and Sam would ever even have found out about it.

"It's beautiful," Jimmy suddenly says. He looks up to meet Dean's eyes, his tone and expression very earnest.

"Best car on the road," Dean replies, equally serious, reaching out to lightly brush his fingertips over her fender.

"I would be honored to drive in her," Jimmy says. Even Dean has to admit that this might be getting a bit ridiculous. Other people don't usually enable his attachment to the Impala. Well, except for Bobby, who has taught him everything about how to properly maintain her, and maybe Sam, who had always seen the Impala as their one remaining connection to their father. But Sam too tended to be exasperated when Dean spent, in his opinion, too much time with the car.

Dean clears his throat. "Right, so we're taking my car. When do you want to leave?"

Jimmy looks at him blankly. "Whenever you are ready," he says.

"Right," Dean says again. "We're getting something to eat first, though, and you gotta ask Ellen if you can leave your tin can here."

It earns him a dry look from Jimmy as they make their way back into the bar. "Ellen has no problem with my car," he tells Dean.

*

Back in the Roadhouse, Jo waves them over to her table. It looks like in the meantime Ellen made her pick up her homework, and her expression is suitably annoyed. Like Dean, Jo isn't much for stuff like calculus or English; it's not like having read Shakespeare will be of any use at all when you're trying to exorcise a demon. Doesn't mean they're stupid, though.

"Good thing you're here," Jo says as Dean and Jimmy come over. She's not talking to Dean, however, which is a bit confusing at first, because Dean would help her with her homework on occasion, just like he used to help Sam before his brother realized that Dean isn't overly concerned with the small details that Sam likes to pay attention to so much. Jo had never been bothered by that, though.

Then Jo leans forward says, "Are you familiar with the Jami al-Tawarikh?" and Dean decides it's time to get some food – especially when Jimmy replies, "I have read all of Rashīd al-Dīn Tabīb's work."

Dean high-tails it away from that table.

Ellen gives him an amused look when he settles at the bar. "Not up to helping Jo with her homework anymore, are you?" She makes as if to hand him another beer, but Dean shakes his head and asks for a coke instead. "Gotta drive later," he explains when she dubiously raises her eyebrow. Then he motions over his shoulder towards where Jimmy and Jo are bent over some sort of book. "When I left they were talking about some Ra-blah-blib guy."

"History," Ellen guesses. "Jimmy helps her often with that subject. Jo thinks he knows _everything_." The look she throws towards the table is half amused, half suspicious; Dean turns around and sees what she means. Jo is wearing an expression Dean knows very well – she used to wear it for a while whenever Sam was around.

Immediately, all of Dean's protective big brother alarm bells start ringing, and he straightens from his slouch. However, he is absolutely sure that Ellen would never allow Jimmy into her bar if she weren't absolutely sure he wouldn't hurt her daughter – and she certainly wouldn't make him huge whipped cream mountains with a bit of hot chocolate underneath.

So Dean decides to let it rest and instead orders a nice cheeseburger and fries from Ellen. "So you're heading out later?" she asks, and when Dean confirms she sends back two orders for fries and cheeseburgers into the kitchen. "That boy forgets to eat sometimes, you gotta watch out for him," she says seriously, which, okay, _weird_. Not that the guy has problems – who in their line of work doesn't have a barrel full of issues? Not anyone Dean wants to cross paths with, that's who – but that Ellen actually tells Dean to take care of him, and not in the "watch out for yourself" kind of way, either. Dean knows very well that Ellen has the tendency to, in her own, gruff way, mother people. But not just anyone; most people she just bosses around. Dean actually knows of only three people she mothers, and two of them are sometimes called Samantha and Josephine.

Maybe it's an age thing he muses, rolling a sip of coke around on his tongue like it's an expensive kind of liquor. Dean, but especially Jo and Sam, are young all things considered, and Jimmy doesn't look like he's much older than Dean; maybe twenty-seven, though these shadows under his eyes and that five o'clock shadow make it somewhat hard to estimate his age.

It's not until Ellen puts two plates down in front of him and tells him to go and save Jimmy that Dean figures out that it must also be the newbie thing; Jimmy can't be an inexperienced hunter, not if he goes out to hunt vampires, but he must be new to the Roadhouse and this part of what Sam likes to call the "scene".

Jo sends him the most evil glare ever when Dean sits down at her table and puts Jimmy's plate next to his own on the side opposite hers, interrupting Jimmy mid-sentence in what looks like an animated monologue on some Khan guy or other. Jo's glare turns positively vicious when Dean then says, "Come on, then, don't get grease all over her homework" and Jimmy immediately moves out of the booth next to her and sits down next to Dean.

Dean, due to long years of practice, has no problems ignoring her completely. He used to interrupt her and Sam all the time, more because he could than for any kind of reason – and maybe also because Sam's panicked, pleading face was hilarious. His little brother had felt quite overwhelmed in the face of Jo's determined adoration. With Jimmy, Dean can't even if tell he noticed, which is probably the best for the guy.

"How many vampires have you hunted before?" Jimmy asks half-way through the meal. They had discussed whether Dean (and whether Jimmy) had hunted them at all before; they had both been satisfied with confirmations and not asked for details. Dean isn't sure if Jimmy's asking now is him probing for more details to make sure Dean can hold his own or if it's his version of small talk.

"Two or three hunts, maybe five or six in total," Dean replies evasively, leaving out the part where those hunts had generally involved guarding the back-entrance while his mom went in, only once getting to off a vampire who had fled and in his panic not expected anybody waiting for him. That had been more luck than anything else, Dean had to admit – not that he'd ever say so out loud. "There's not many vampires around anymore anyway," he adds a moment later.

Jimmy just nods, seemingly very involved in chewing a couple of fries.

"Most hunters think there are none of them around anymore," Jo pipes up.

Dean throws Ellen a glance, but Jo's mother is busy talking to some other hunters, so there's no danger of her suddenly sweeping in and tearing Dean a new one for the second time this day. "Yeah, this is the first sighting I've heard of in seven years," he agrees with Jo once he's sure the coast is clear.

Jimmy blinks for a moment before he swallows and asks, "How old were you when you were hunting those vampires?"

"Sixteen," Dean says truthfully. It would have been way too young for Sammy to go hunt vampires, but it had been a different case with Dean. Sam wouldn't have been ready or able, but their mother had trained Dean very early on so he could take care of himself and Sam too, protect the both of them.

Jimmy doesn't say anything to that, so Dean doesn't have to tell him to stuff it. Jo keeps out of it as well – there had been a time that Dean remembers that Ellen and Mary had been fighting about something, had even dropped out of contact for a while. At the time Dean had had no idea why and he still doesn't know why they and how they had made up; one day, Mary had just brought Dean and Sam to Ellen and dropped them off with her like before. He has some theories that he had developed over the past one or two years, when Jo had started to get seriously interested in hunter business and when Ellen had consequently become more and more strict to prevent her daughter's involvement. He figures that Ellen probably hadn't agreed with Mary making it Dean's job to protect and take care of Sammy when she was gone. Dean had been capable, though, and he still doesn't see where the problem had been. His mother knows and had known what she was doing, just like Dean does and had.

After they've eaten Jo tries to get Jimmy involved in helping her more with her homework. However, Dean can tell that her question is pretty trivial and from the way Jimmy hesitates, he has figured it out too.

"Sorry, Jo, we gotta go if we want to get to Lame Deer before tomorrow morning," Dean involves himself, getting another death glare from Jo.

"Méavé'ho'eno nátao'sêtsêhe'eohtse," Jimmy says, which is entirely the wrong tactic if he's trying to deter Jo – which Dean sure hopes is what he's trying to do.

Chicks dig foreign languages, though; Dean remembers that very well. Once upon a time he had tried to learn some French and it had gotten him a couple of nights with one or two chicks who had really digged that. But then they had moved away and Dean had decided that it would have been too bothersome to keep up with long-term.

Jo lights up like a Christmas tree, though. "What does that mean?" she asks, and Dean recognizes the glint in her eyes – which makes him very, very uncomfortable because honestly, to him, Jo is like a little sister.

Then Jimmy says, "I'm going to Lame Deer" in a very final tone of voice, getting up at the same time. "I hope you'll have a good time." He then heads towards Ellen, who is behind the bar again.

Dean salutes Jo with two fingers, hurrying after him. Once they've said their good-byes and cleared that Jimmy's tin can may indeed stay in Ellen's parking lot, they leave the bar. While Jimmy parks his horrible car behind the Roadhouse and gets whatever he needs out of it, Dean clears the passenger seat of all the stuff it accumulated in the months nobody has sat in there – mostly balled up burger wrappers and other bits of trash.

"Okay," Dean says once Jimmy is seated safely in the Impala. "The rules: driver picks the music. You won't ever get to drive my baby unless maybe when I'm dead. Don't take it personally, not even my brother is allowed into the driver's seat. No blood on the seats. Got that?"

"Yes," Jimmy says dryly, and they hit the road.

For a couple of hours, they drive; not in silence, naturally, which at first is only due to Dean's mix tapes (really his father's mix tapes, courtesy of Bobby, just like the Impala). Then Jimmy comments upon his choice of music and asks some questions – well, rather, he says, "I like this music. What is it?" And seriously, how can anyone not know Led Zeppelin?

Naturally, Dean has to educate the guy, and he starts with his favorite song. In between songs, he explains to Jimmy what Led Zeppelin is about. "I loved those books," he says at one point while explaining about Lord of the Rings.

"You don't anymore?" Jimmy inquires.

"That's not it." Dean shrugs. "Don't have the time to read anymore, I gotta drive." Sometimes he still misses those times when he and Sam used to sit in the back, playing pointless games for hours or just reading. Sometimes Dean imagined he could recount the whole story of Lord of the Rings by heart. He would read it out to Sam when they were alone, hiding in a cupboard or under a blanket. He had had to skip the scary bits because their mom insisted Sam not learn about anything scary; he still remembers how years later, Sam had complained to him loudly because apparently, Dean had been distorting the true story and Sam did not approve.

"I have not read Lord of the Rings," Jimmy suddenly admits.

"Not even the movies?" When Jimmy negates, Dean starts to seriously wonder what kind of hole he has crawled out of. Who did not know Lord of the Rings?

"Seriously?" he marvels, unable to contain his exasperation. "You know some weird guy whose name I can't even pronounce, but you don't know Lord of the Rings?"

"Rashīd al-Dīn Tabīb?" Jimmy says. "The Jami al-Tawarikh is being regarded as a key report on the Ilkhanids. It's a landmark of-"

"Whatever," Dean interrupts loudly. "Lord of the Rings, man. Lord of the Rings. You can not go on not having read those books. On the way back, I'll lend you my copy."

"That is very kind of you, Dean," Jimmy says. He doesn't say it like other people do, like a polite phrase you utter; he says it like he actually means it, which for some reason really embarrasses Dean.

Ducking his head, he mutters an awkward, "Yes, well," and cranks up the music a little.

*

They stop at a hotel in Hardin, about fifty miles out of Lame Deer. Dean isn't up to doing anything more but fall into bed and go to sleep; Jimmy looks equally knackered, so that's what they do as soon as they've got their hotel room.

The next morning, Dean wakes up to Jimmy sitting at their table, a couple of papers and maps spread out in front of him. Dean mumbles something that could be construed as a greeting and stumbles off into the tiny bathroom. After he's showered and put on some fresh clothes he feels vaguely awake; Jimmy, he finds upon leaving the bathroom, is still sitting at the table, completely focused on a map. When Dean utters a hopeful "Breakfast?" Jimmy looks up in confusion and blinks at him for a couple of moments as if he's wondering who the hell Dean is and where the hell he came from.

Dean narrows his eyes, but then realization dawns on Jimmy's face and the corners of his mouth tilt up. "Good morning, Dean," he says politely. "Yes, breakfast would be good."

"Well, are you coming then?" Dean asks, getting some money out of his duffel.

Jimmy quickly folds up his paperwork and puts it back in his own duffel. They store their bags in the Impala before they head for the diner across the street from the motel. You can't trust hotel staff not to look through some person's bag and accidentally find their armament of knives and guns.

After breakfast, Jimmy gets his map out and shows Dean where exactly the nest is. "They're in a farmhouse, playing happy family," he tells Dean. He doesn't mention where the original inhabitants of that house went; there's no need. He pulls up another sheet of paper on which he has drawn a crude floor plan for the farmhouse, all two stories.

"Dude," Dean says. "Were you actually in the house when you did the recon?"

Jimmy throws him a look. "Naturally. The mated pair lives in the master bedroom, while their "children" share the three other rooms. They sleep during the day, which is why now would be the best time to surprise them."

"They'll hear us coming," Dean reminds him. No matter how quiet they are. It's not like they can actually silence their heartbeats.

"Maybe," Jimmy replies. "They feel very secure. They're very cautious and actually make an effort to hunt away from home."

"How sweet." Dean rolls his eyes. "So we'll just walk up to the house and see what happens?"

"One of us will cover the back, the other the front of the house," Jimmy agrees. "It's unlikely they'll come out during sunlight, though. If they notice us approaching and we don't get the chance to sneak in and kill at least one or two before the others notice, we'll have to get them out one by one."

"And how will we do that?" Dean asks, raising an eyebrow. If the vampires barricade themselves in the house, they'll just wait until sundown and then come at them all at once.

"With fresh blood, of course," Jimmy replies. "The older ones will be able to resist longer, but the younger ones will lose control and come out. Then we can kill them."

It actually sounds like a good plan to Dean. He can hold his own in a fight if it comes to it, but against seven vampires at once sounds pretty suicidal. Separating them like that is the best strategy. "Okay, great," Dean thus says. "Let's go."

They get into the Impala and Dean drives them to wherever Jimmy directs him, until they're a couple hundred of yards away from the farm house, which stands amidst fields of wheat, mountains in the background. It looks pretty idyllic, actually.

Carefully, they close the doors of the Impala; they stopped far enough away they should be safely out of hearing range of the vampires, but you can never be careful enough. They silently arm themselves, hiding knives dipped in dead man's blood all over their bodies, and then they make their way down the street. No point hiding in the wheat field; this place really sucks as far as sneaking up to it is concerned.

As they get closer to the house, Dean finds that all the windows have been tightly barricaded, probably to prevent any sunlight from getting in. He notices this absently while focusing on the door, looking for signs of movement inside; suddenly, just when they're about to separate and head for different entrances, Jimmy takes hold of his arm.

"They noticed us," Jimmy says in his normal tone of voice. No point trying to be quiet anymore. Dean has no idea how the guy knows, but he isn't paranoid enough to be suspicious.

"Okay, great." He gets a knife out – the only one he has that he hasn't dipped in dead man's blood, he isn't suicidal – and cuts his upper arm, deep enough to have an enticing amount of blood well out, but not so deep as to impede his movement.

Now he definitely hears something; it sounds like someone slams into the door, and as they get closer, he hears agitated voices and furious hissing. He and Jimmy share a look; it seems like their plan is taking up. They separate, Dean coming to a halt in direct line of the door, Jimmy moving somewhat to the side, so a vampire coming out of the door won't notice him immediately if he's concentrating completely on Dean, which is the plan. If things work out the way they're hoping, Jimmy will get to off one or two vampires before they even reach Dean – but even if that works, Dean's job is more dangerous than Jimmy's. Not that Dean minds; he is in fact very satisfied that Jimmy considers him an equal where hunter business is concerned, something, he has to admit, his mother has never done. Which is understandable because she has so much more experience, but still. She is the one who taught Dean, she should know that Dean can hold his own in a fight, against any kind of monster.

They don't have to wait for long; all of a sudden the door bursts open and three vampires storm out, making a beeline for Dean, fangs extended and wildness in their eyes. Jimmy immediately pounces on one of them, whacking its head off with his machete before the vampire even knows that it's being attacked; the other two don't even appear to notice, but from inside the house someone wails. Dean doesn't care, and it's not like he can pay much attention anyway; the other two vampires are upon him, Jimmy hot on their trail. From the last time, Dean knows that during blood-lust vampires aren't too smart, and so he barely bothers to feign with the knife in his right before stabbing the first vampire in the chest with one of the knives dipped in dead man's blood in his left hand. The vampire screeches and falls, curling up around the wound and writhing, and Dean gets ready for the second vampire, but before it can come upon him Jimmy throws himself on top of it, stabbing it in the back with his own blade. Dean himself doesn't have a long enough knife or even a sword to decapitate a vampire without having to seriously work for it and anyway the vampire won't just lie back and let him take his time. So he concentrates on subduing it long enough for Jimmy to use his machete. As soon as Dean touches the vampire that attacked him it tries to push up and attack him, but the dead man's blood slows it considerably and Dean has no problems getting it into a headlock, kneeling on its back.

Jimmy doesn't waste any time getting rid of the second vampire, but just when he turns around to help Dean, a scream resonates from the house, and Jimmy's gaze turns from Dean towards it. His eyes widen and he immediately hurries past Dean, dropping one knife and getting another that still has dead man's blood all over it. Dean turns his head to find the four remaining vampires in the house charging. The angle is pretty awkward for him, a mistake he curses himself for because it's rookie to turn your back on your enemies.

He doesn't have any time to dwell on it though; there's no way Jimmy can hold his own against four vampires, no matter how good he is, and so Dean makes a quick decision and slits the vampire's throat with a fresh blade, cutting the backs of its knees afterwards to incapacitate it seriously. Then he charges on the four other vampires that are just coming upon Jimmy.

Jimmy, Dean notices, has cut his own arm, and it works somewhat in driving two of the vampires into bloodlust; Jimmy has no problems injuring them with his blood-dipped knives, causing them to drop to the ground and be temporarily incapacitated. The other two, the older, mated pair obviously, manage to keep their wits, though, and evade Jimmy's blade when he stabs at them. Dean takes Jimmy's example and jumps one of them from behind, driving his knife into its back; it screeches furiously, distracting the other vampire just enough for Jimmy to get at it. Smoothly Jimmy switches to the machete and swings it to whack one vampires head off. Dean watches just long enough to make sure it's done before he gets to making sure the others can't jump at any of them surprisingly.

The rest is fairly straight-forward, and afterwards Jimmy and Dean hold a short conference before they put the corpses in the house and, with the help of a fair amount of gas and one or two Molotov cocktails for the upper stories, set it on fire. It's not like the owners are going to come back, and who knows what kind of things the vampires did in that house – the dried-up blood-stains Dean sees just in the living room are already more than enough for him.

They wait around just long enough to make sure the house catches fire properly, but doesn't spread into the field of crops close by. Once they're sure of it, they put on fresh clothes so they don't raise any alarms with all the blood-stains on their current ones, throwing them into the fire as well; blood-stains don't come out easily and Dean doesn't particularly fancy the idea of wearing clothes with vampire and dead man's blood all over them.

While they get into fresh clothes, they take stock of themselves. Neither he nor Jimmy are wounded, not seriously; a couple of bruises, Jimmy has a grazed bite wound where he didn't quite manage to twist out of the way of one of the older vampires' attack, and then there's of course both of their cuts. Jimmy is of the opinion that he needs some stitches and when Dean checks he agrees; apparently in the heat of the fight Jimmy cut a bit too deeply. The wound is still seeping blood sluggishly.

It's early evening when they get back into their motel room, and the first thing they do is clean up their knife wounds with Dean stitching up Jimmy's. Afterwards they take showers and then they get dressed and head out to get some food. Ideally, they'll drive back to the Roadhouse today, but Dean isn't sure he has the energy for a couple hours of driving.

He makes his final decision when, as they pass the Impala, he remembers that he told Jimmy he'd lend him his copy of the Lord of the Rings trilogy. It's been years since he himself read those books and so he decides to take the evening off. Jimmy doesn't seem to mind when Dean suggests it, and later when Dean gets the books out he actually seems enthusiastic. So they do something Dean hasn't done in years; just sit down and read in companionable silence. Dean lets Jimmy have the first book and starts with the second; it's his favorite anyway.

The next day they have breakfast and then comfortably head back towards the Roadhouse. Jimmy sits quietly in the passenger seat, already working through The Two Towers.

They arrive just after lunch. Jimmy looks fairly disappointed because he hasn't managed to read through the whole trilogy, making Dean snort. He can get the books in any book shop; it's the second-best selling novel worldwide, after all.

"Boys?" Ellen greets them when they trudge into the Roadhouse. Dean really wishes she'd stop calling him that, he's twenty-three years old for god's sake.

"Ellen," Jimmy greets her earnestly. "How are you?" Dean is slowly getting used to his occasional formality, but it's still weird.

Ellen waves the question away with a snort. "How are the vampires?" she asks instead.

"Dead," Dean replies, deadpan.

"That was kinda the point, wasn't it," Ellen replies. "You boys hungry?"

"Yes." Dean's answer is heartfelt, and Ellen huffs and rolls her eyes, but turns around to send back an order for two meals back into the kitchen. "Where's the princess?" Dean asks after Ellen has handed him a bottle of beer and Jimmy a bottle of soda.

"School, where she belongs," Ellen replies with an inelegant snort. "Now quit stallin' and tell me how the hunt went."

They do so over two bowls of homemade chili, staying at the bar. Ellen clucks over Jimmy's stitched up wound but apparently finds no fault with Dean's stitching because she doesn't say anything about it except narrowing her eyes at Jimmy and telling him to be more careful next time.

"You up for another hunt?" Ellen asks a little later. "Got two possible werewolves in Fayetteville, Arkansas."

"How can you be sure it's a werewolf, and two at that?" Jimmy asks curiously.

Ellen rolls her eyes. "Eric brought it in, but he dislocated his shoulder on his last hunt so he isn't up for it. There's only so many "unusually big dog" attacks that can happen at full moon before it gets suspicious – and some of them happened too close in time for it to be just one."

Jimmy and Dean share a glance; Dean shrugs. He himself knows that hunting as a pair is a lot safer than on your own, especially where werewolves are concerned.

"The next full moon is three weeks off so you have some time to think about it, but you gotta make a decision within the next couple of days because if you don't want it, I'll send somebody else."

Dean shrugs and says, "Yeah, okay." He isn't too sure about going on another hunt with Jimmy, though he can't really tell why. They work out as a team; Jimmy seems like an okay guy even if he is a bit weird and has some issues. But still, Dean doesn't much like the idea of having somebody else in his space – in his _car_ – all the time. It grates, for some reason.

So, after Jimmy has gotten his things out of the Impala and they have exchanged phone numbers, Dean heads out on a simple ghost hunt that Ellen had lined up as well.

It's a simple salt and burn, though it's not that easy to find where the remains are buried. It's not that difficult either, though, and four days later Dean is back at the Roadhouse. Jimmy hasn't been waiting around for him like a pining fourteen-years-old girl, of course, but that's a good thing because it gives Dean the opportunity to ask some much-needed question.

"So, where did the guy come from?" he asks Ellen after he's settled at the bar.

Ellen throws him a look but doesn't pretend to have no idea who the hell he's talking about. "It's not like I know his life story," she says slowly, then sighs. "He knows a lot of stuff, as you might have noticed when he helped Jo. He definitely wasn't a rookie to business when he started showing up. As far as I know, he got involved in a haunting at some hospital; some ghost playing angel of death. Alan took care of it, and somehow Jimmy got involved; Jimmy never told me the details. You know what happened to Alan."

Dean does; death is certainly not an unusual occurrence in their line of business. "Wait, Alan was running with an apprentice when that demon got him. That was Jimmy?"

Ellen points at him. "That's right, that was Jimmy. Boy came here a couple of days later, looking like a lost kitten."

That had been two years ago; Dean is honestly surprised that Jimmy has been around the Roadhouse for that long without their paths ever having crossed. Then again, it's not like he lives in the Roadhouse; ever since they established a somewhat solid base for Sam's high school years they hadn't gotten around to visiting Ellen and Jo more often than a couple of times a year.

"Okay, so spit it out," Ellen says, interrupting Dean's ponderings. "Why the curiosity?"

Dean shrugs. "I've never seen the guy before, Ellen, of course I'm curious. Especially if I'm going to hunt with him."

"Bullshit. You could've asked those questions before you went out for those vampires, but you didn't. What is it?"

"Oh, come on, Ellen. As if you'd let me run off with some guy who isn't able to hold his own in a fight." Dean rolls his eyes. At Ellen's unrelenting glare, he shifts and finally admits, "I haven't hunted with anyone but my family before. Gotta know a bit more about the guy before I make any decisions."

"Yes, well, you won't get no answers by asking other people," Ellen returns. "You ask him a question about a critter or about history, he can talk for hours, but his personal life? He clams up. You'd know what I'm talking about." She sends him a look, and Dean rolls his eyes. As if his private life is any secret, or at all interesting. There's just nothing to tell.

"Alright, fine," he eventually relents when Ellen puts her hands on her hips. "I'm going to ask him. When's he coming back?"

"No idea." Ellen shrugs and gets a cloth out to wipe down the bar, having no reason to stare at Dean pointedly anymore now that he's going to do what she wants. "You got his number. Call him."

Dean sighs and gets out his mobile.

*

Jimmy is off on his own job – Lady in White – but after a quick talk on the phone he and Dean decide to take the werewolf job. They agree to meet up in Fayetteville two weeks before full moon; werewolves are always hard to find outside of full moon because they themselves often don't even know what's going on, so they want to have enough time to try.

Which leaves Dean 3 days with nothing to do, so he decides to go visit Sam.

His brother seems happy, if a bit flustered due to the surprise nature of the visit; he pulls Dean aside and hisses that Dean please, please, please leave the college girls alone. Dean rolls his eyes at that, because seriously. He has naturally dropped some comments here and there, but he had never even seriously flirted with any of the girls at Sam's school. He hadn't wanted to, and even if he had, his mother had made him promise that he wouldn't. Sam sometimes is a serious worrywart.

Dean figures out that there's a reason for Sam's unusually uptight behavior when a pretty blond girl shows up while they're lounging about in Sam's dorm, just talking. "Hey Sam," she says, "I was wondering if you wanted to come to Elly's party today." Even a blind and oblivious man – so, Sam – would be able to read her body language, it's so obvious. She's flirting like her life is depending on it, and Sam flushes and ducks his head and rubs the back of his neck and generally acts like the awkward dork he acts like when he's crushing.

Naturally, like any big brother in the world would, Dean teases him mercilessly as soon as the girl is gone, and Sam only makes it all the more fun by flushing and exclaiming scandalized "Dean!"'s at Dean's more specific suggestions.

"That was Jess," Sam finally discloses with an embarrassed duck of his head. "She's pre-law as well."

"Nice." Dean wriggles his eyebrows. "So you're going to Elly's party today?"

Sam's eyes widen suddenly and he sits up straight. "Dean, you can't-", he chokes.

Dean blinks, having no idea what the hell his brother is on about all of a sudden. "What? Out with it, Samantha."

Sam grimaces and lowers his gaze. "Pleasedon'tflirtwithJess?" he mumbles.

"Seriously?" Dean says after a short pause. Sam had always had a problem with Dean's flirting habits, complaining about them sometimes to the point where he'd turn almost nasty. He took his cue on that also from their mother, who disapproves as well, though she usually doesn't say anything if Dean doesn't let it interfere with the job. (Which he never allows to happen, but on occasion their opinions on whether or not he did don't concord.)

But Dean had never, ever done anything with a girl Sam had been interested in, and not just because usually they were way too young for him. He really has no idea where Sam got the idea that he would do that now, especially not when Sam is so obviously nursing a serious crush.

Dean is honestly hurt. He looks down at the floor for a moment, then looks up again. "No worries, Sam, wasn't planning on staying anyway," he says. "In fact, I have to go now." He gets up and grabs his jacket and keys.

"Dean," Sam says, looking up at him with wide eyes. "I didn't- I didn't mean it like that, I'm sorry."

Dean pauses halfway to the door and turns to look at his little brother. "No, Sam, I think you really did," he says. "You know, it's one thing to treat me like a slut, but it's a different thing to treat me like a scumbag."

"I don't- Dean-" Sam scrambles up, trying to stop him, but Dean waves him off.

"Whatever," he says. "I got a hunt lined up." Those are the magical words; Sam lets him go. When it had still been a forbidden subject for him Sam had been insanely curious and interested. Then, after Sam had turned sixteen and their mother had finally allowed for him to be involved, Sam had fairly quickly decided that it really wasn't his thing. In hindsight, Dean wonders how he could have missed that for over two years, but he did. He's not going to be surprised about people leaving him again, though. Mostly because there's nobody left to leave him, but still.

He doesn't have a hunt lined up, though, and it's also too late to drive back to the Roadhouse; by the time he arrives it will be the early hours of the morning, even if he doesn't stop. If he does stop, the Roadhouse will most likely be already closed by the point he gets there.

So Dean decides to drive to Las Vegas instead. It will be early morning by the time he gets there as well, but Vegas never sleeps. He has to be careful with the cheating because the Casinos don't take to that too well, but Dean has been there before so he knows where to draw the line. He's not there to win money anyway; he's there to lose it – and to maybe get laid in the process, though honestly, he's not really in the mood right now, not with the things Sam didn't say ringing in his ears.

Twenty hours later, Dean has both lost and won a lot of money, halfway slept off a hang-over and had a sufficiently greasy, artery-clogging meal. Now he's on the way to Fayetteville, with a pit-stop in Albuquerque. He's mostly forgiven Sam for his comment; his brother just gets too insecure sometimes. He didn't really mean to imply that Dean would poach his brother's girlfriend, Dean doesn't think.

Dean stays the night in Albuquerque, spending a couple of hours going through bars and earning some money before he heads over to Fayetteville. He texts Jimmy to let him know which motel he stops at and falls into bed.

In the middle of the night – rather, early morning, around five am, but Dean went to bed just four hours before, so it counts as the middle of the night if he says so – there's a knock on his door. Disgruntled, Dean puts his gun in the back of his boxers and doesn't bother putting on a t-shirt when he opens the door.

It's Jimmy, looking completely knackered. "Come on," Dean grumbles, gesturing him inside. Jimmy mutters a rough, incoherent greeting and shuffles inside, dropping his bag and making a beeline for the unused bed, falling down on it face down. He clearly drops off to sleep immediately, because he doesn't even twitch afterwards.

Not that Dean pays too much attention; he just closes and locks the door and gets back into his own bed, falling asleep as soon as his head hits the pillow.

He wakes up a couple of hours later; Jimmy is still lying face down on the bed, though in the course of the night he at least managed to shed his shoes, trench coat and jeans. Dean uses the time until Jimmy wakes up to go out to buy a bunch of newspapers and get some breakfast; then he starts looking through them, hoping for any hint about those "extraordinarily big dogs". Ellen had given him the file of research and newspaper clippings Eric had brought and he spreads it out on the table as well. Eric wasn't too thorough, but then, he hadn't planned on doing the hunt himself.

Dean doesn't find much in the newspaper except for an animal shelter that had an unusually high number of deaths among their dogs. Might be just coincidence, but might also not.

By the time Jimmy starts to twitch and raise his disheveled head from the pillows Dean has marked every newspaper article that could even be vaguely of interest, sorted the clippings from Eric and gotten a map on which he marked all the places mentioned in the newspapers – he had even color-coded them. If Jimmy had been Sam, Dean would have long since woken him up less-than-gently, but Jimmy had been behind the wheel for at least a couple of hours and Dean knows perfectly well how that could wear a person out.

Jimmy grunts something that might be a greeting and slinks off into the bathroom. Half an hour later he comes back out, freshly showered and shaved and looking a bit more mentally present. "Food?" he asks Dean hopefully. Dean snorts and shakes his head, but puts his book – The Fellowship of the Ring – down and accompanies Jimmy to the nearby diner. He doesn't mind having an early lunch and Jimmy clearly needs some nourishment to become coherent.

They spend the meal in companionable silence; Jimmy first nibbles like he isn't really sure he wants to eat after all, but when Dean tells him that seriously, salad doesn't have the tendency to bite even before it was made into food, he finally starts eating like a normal person. Dean files it away as another of the quirky things Jimmy sometimes does, like the time he had for some reason refused to leave the car when they had taken a break on the way back from Lame Deer, even though he had been the one who had asked Dean to take a stop. He had said he had changed his mind, but it had been a little weird, especially when he had seemed perfectly okay getting out of the car when Dean had stopped five minutes later because they had driven by this chain of diners that Dean knew made great bacon cheeseburgers.

"What do you have so far?" Jimmy asks when they get back into their motel room.

Dean tells him.

In the end they manage to find one of the werewolves before full moon, but more by accident than due to their skills, Dean has to admit – they go check out the animal shelter with the dead dogs. Dean pretends to want a dog while Jimmy poses as his best friend who's coming to help him choose. They find out that nearly all of the bigger dogs have either died under mysterious circumstances or run away recently; the woman who Dean chats up tells him that they suspect it's "those teenagers, they're all criminals nowadays". It's Jimmy who almost literally stumbles over the werewolf – he's one of the workers there, and Jimmy catches him flashing his teeth at one of the dogs who snarls at him.

After that, things are pretty easy; they follow the guy around for a couple of days and, after they've taken care of him (during full moon, of course, because you can never be absolutely sure a person really is a werewolf until they change), they quickly find the other werewolf. Rather, the werewolf finds them, because it attacks them. After they've killed it, it changes into a man around the same age as that other werewolf; they have no idea who it is. Dean figures he must be the other werewolf's friend or something.

After that second successful hunt, Dean starts seriously thinking about working together with Jimmy more often; he has to admit, it's sort of nice to be able to talk to somebody without needing to pick up the phone. And Jimmy is, while occasionally sort of peculiar, a capable hunter; he's smart, he doesn't smell and doesn't have any other habits that bother Dean.

Still, Dean would like to know a bit more about the guy before he lets him settle in the Impala semi-permanently. That's why, after they've had a night of sleep, Dean gets some pizza and asks Jimmy some questions. He doesn't bother being subtle about it.

"So, how did you come to be a hunter?" he asks, taking a bite of his deliciously meaty pizza – pepperoni, sausage, bacon and chicken, it's great. Not just because his mother and brother would hate it.

"I was… in a hospital," Jimmy says slowly, eyes fixated on his spinach and shrimps pizza. There's obviously a story there, but Dean doesn't ask. "People kept dying – or rather, they kept almost-dying a couple of times before they died for real. I knew something was wrong. And then there was this guy from the FBI, asking questions about those deaths, and one night I run across him in the halls. I followed him into the basement – I was curious, you see, and I knew something was off and that he was involved somehow. It was a ghost – a nurse who had been killed and murdered in the hospital. Of course the hunter – his name was Alan – noticed me following him, and he asked me to help. It took us a couple of nights to find the right wall, we burned the bones, and afterwards I asked him if I could come with him to learn more about this. He let me." Jimmy shrugs, picking at a shrimp. Then he looks up. "How did you become a hunter?"

It's fair enough Dean figures, and so he shrugs and says, "I was born into it. My mom's family has been hunting for generations; she was raised into the business as well." He hesitates for a moment, and then, for no reason he can discern, adds, "My father was murdered by a demon when I was four."

Jimmy looks up, expression alert. "I'm sorry," he says after a moment.

Dean shrugs. "Yes, well. My mom is going to find him."

Jimmy nods slowly and picks a shrimp off his pizza.

After a brief pause, Dean asks carefully, "What are you going to do now?"

"There are ghosts everywhere," Jimmy replies. "I'll find one."

"Right." Dean clears his throat. "Mind if I come with you?"

Jimmy looks up quickly and tilts his head a little, just looking at Dean for a moment. Then the corners of his mouth tilts up in a small smile and he says, "I would enjoy the company."

Dean doesn't know why he notices that this is the first time he sees Jimmy honestly smile.

Three days later, after they have brought Jimmy's terrible tin can (Dean honestly doesn't think it deserves the name "car") to the Roadhouse and parked it there semi-permanently with Ellen's permission, they go on their first hunt, just a simple vengeful spirit.

Over the next three months, Dean and Jimmy hunt as a team, mostly ghosts but also a shape shifter, as well as dismantle some minor and not so minor witches and curses. Dean finds they make a great team; Jimmy, it turns out, is brilliant at research and finding supernatural occurrences which Dean quite appreciates. That part of hunting has never come easy to him.

There's other things Dean finds he appreciates about Jimmy, though. The more they get to know each other the more comfortable they get with each other. And for Dean, that means starting to more and more notice how attractive Jimmy really is.

That doesn't happen to him often – or at all, really. Usually he notices things like that immediately, and then he makes a quick decision on whether or not to follow through on his attraction (though either decision is subject to change at a moment's notice). Not that he didn't notice that Jimmy is attractive when he first saw him, but then it had been little more than an absent observation; he had been busier trying to assess if and how big a threat the unfamiliar hunter might be.

Which is why he has no idea how to act now. Normally when he sees someone attractive he would like to bed, he lets them know so immediately, if not through words then through flirting. The timeframe for that has long since passed, however; if he started the flirting now, that'd probably be awkward, wouldn't it? It's not like Dean has any frame of reference, he's never wondered how to go about getting sex before. Though Jimmy would be the first hunter Dean has had sex with – first male hunter, at least. There had been that bombshell Dean had had a short affair with when he had been eighteen and Sam fourteen and their mother had left them at the Roadhouse for a couple of weeks over summer; Dean had gone on a couple of hunts with her, among other things. Lauren had been fifteen years older and Dean had been well-aware that it was mostly the forbidden attraction thing; he'd had no problem with it.

His attraction for Jimmy is somehow entirely different, though he can't really articulate why.

Dean sort of thinks about this for a couple of weeks, during which he keeps noticing the shape of Jimmy's lips and his jaw (he wants to bite them), the jut of his hipbones and the curves of his belly and spine. Of course there are also his shoulders and hands and ass and especially his thighs; Dean wants to spread them, wants to-

Right, so things are getting somewhat uncomfortable by the time Dean's mother calls him. They don't speak on the phone all that often; usually they text each other that they're alright and that's it, but on occasion she calls him to ask for more details on how she's doing, and usually also to talk about Sam. It's been a while since she last called Dean by the time she calls him in mid-June; she's been on the trail of some demons and pretty busy.

She took care of that about a week ago, she tells Dean; there are no news about the demon that killed John Winchester. However, there are some entirely different news Mary has to impart; "Sam has met someone!" she tells Dean, excitement clearly audible in her voice. She then proceeds to tell Dean all she knows about Jess.

Dean sits back on the bed and hums and utters the occasional "yes" or "that's nice", throwing a look towards Jimmy and rolling his eyes. They had been discussing the possibility of fairies really existing or not; it had been more joking around than anything else, with Jimmy pretending to be an expert, wearing his Extremely Serious Business face and saying things like, "pranks can have awful consequences, Dean" and "changelings are neither cute or nice, Dean, and they are considered to be fairies".

Half an hour later, Jimmy has gone and come back from getting them dinner – Chinese – and Mary is still going on about Jess and Sam and Sam and Jess together. "Mom," Dean huffs eventually. "All you talk about is Sam and how he's met someone. What if I met someone too?" He's joking, but as soon as he says it he's suddenly not sure if he really is.

His mother is silent for a moment, probably not used to Dean interrupting like that, and then she asks, "Have you met someone?"

Dean glances towards Jimmy, who pauses with his spoonful of ice cream in his mouth when Dean's eyes meet his and blinks. After a short moment, Jimmy pulls the spoon out of his mouth and smirks, raising an eyebrow, and Dean knows that expression. It's Jimmy daring him to do something he doesn't think Dean will actually do, like that time when he had dared Dean to go into the gay bar and flirt with that waiter they were suspecting of being the shapeshifter, or that time when he had dared Dean to listen to opera for an hour, or that time when Jimmy had dared him to dress up as a woman together with Jimmy so they could sneak into a coven of man-hating witches meeting up, or that time when he had dared Dean to eat nothing but tomatoes for three days straight. Like Sam's puppy dog eyes, Jimmy's eyebrow is hard to resist.

"Yes," Dean tells his mom, meeting Jimmy's challenging eyes. "His name is Jimmy." Then he raises his eyebrow at Jimmy and returns the challenging look. Jimmy bites his lower lip to hide the grin that tries to make its way onto his face and lowers his gaze, spooning up another spoonful of mint chocolate chip ice cream, his eyelashes fluttering closed for a moment when he puts it into his mouth.

Dean's mom says something, and Dean blinks, forcefully dragging his eyes away from that blissful expression on Jimmy's face. "What?"

"I asked where you met him," his mom says. Dean doesn't know what to make out of her tone of voice; it's decidedly not the same as the enthusiastic excitement Sam got.

"The Roadhouse," Dean replies.

"He's a hunter?" Mary asks, and this time her tone of voice is definitely sharp.

Dean narrows his eyes, sitting up a little straighter. "Yes."

"How old is he?"

Dean tilts his head and looks at Jimmy. "How old are you?" he asks.

Jimmy blinks. "Twenty-five," he replies, and Dean dutifully repeats that to his mother. He had never thought to ask Jimmy before; he had been satisfied with his prior conclusions and not deemed it important ever since. It turns out he had been two years off, but it's not like it matters.

"Good." Some of the hardness leaves Mary's voice; she sounds somewhat relieved. "How did you meet him?"

"What do you think?" Dean rolls his eyes. "We went on a hunt together."

"So you're hunting together as well," Mary says. "Let me speak to him."

This is the point where Dean realizes the joke has gone far too far already. The logical, easiest thing to do would be to fess up and tell his mom that he'd mostly been joking. Dean is self-aware enough to know that he has the tendency to go the not-easy way – but knowing that doesn't at all stop him from doing it. The fact that he sort of would like to fuck Jimmy (or get fucked by him; he's certainly not too picky about that) plays probably a huge part as well in what Dean does next – he holds his phone out for Jimmy and says, "My mom wants to talk to you."

To his credit, Jimmy keeps a totally straight face. He calmly takes the phone and says, "Hello?"

Dean totally didn't expect how absolutely nerve-wracking the next couple of minutes would be; not that he had much time to think about it, but still. Jimmy keeps saying things like "yes" and "I'm aware" and "I know"; they're clearly talking about Dean. Then Jimmy's expression turns suddenly blank, and he says, "I am not comfortable talking about that with someone who is effectively a stranger to me."

Dean winces. Jimmy looks at him and raises an eyebrow – not the daring eyebrow, though. "You're free to do so," Jimmy says as their eyes lock, and then his face definitely turns mischievous as he says with great relish, "Of course I promise to treat your son right, Mrs. Winchester."

Dean winces again, but for a totally different reason this time. Jimmy repeats, "Mary," as Dean's mom obviously tells him to call her by her first name, and then he hands the phone back to Dean.

Honestly, Dean is sort of afraid, but he's an adult and he's a hunter and he totally can talk to his mom on the phone after he and his friend just made her believe they were in a relationship. "Mom?"

"I'm definitely going to have Ellen tell me everything she knows about this Jimmy," his mom tells him firmly.

"Uhm, sure, you do that," Dean replies, somewhat confused. He has no idea what Jimmy refused to tell her; it can't really have been the story on how he became a hunter, right? It's not like it's very traumatic, though Dean still doesn't know how Jimmy came to be in the hospital in the first place. Also, Alan died a couple of months later, something that Dean knows was a somewhat traumatic experience for Jimmy – understandably so. So maybe it _was_ the story of how he became a hunter that Jimmy refused to tell Mary.

"Okay," Mary says. Then she breathes out and says slowly, "I'm glad you're happy."

Dean swallows and looks at Jimmy, who is once again eating his chocolate chip mint ice cream. He grins widely when their eyes meet, though, and maybe that's why Dean's voice is a little hoarse when he says, "Me too."

*

"So you met someone," Jimmy says with a smirk as soon as Dean ends the call. His eyes are bright, crinkling at the corners.

Dean clears his throat, but just when he's about to awkwardly shift and try to deflect he thinks, _what the hell am I doing?_ Because seriously, this is a stellar opportunity, he couldn't have fabricated it better if he had tried.

Which possibly he had at least subconsciously, because he _had_ deliberately led his mother to the wrong conclusions.

So Dean decides to seize the opportunity as it presents itself to him and leans across the table towards Jimmy. Because these motel rooms and their tables are tiny he doesn't quite get into Jimmy's personal space, but if Jimmy shifts forwards a little, that's definitely what's going to happen. "Well, we haven't actually met in the biblical sense yet," Dean purrs, looking up at Jimmy through his eyelashes. "You up to changing that?"

For one moment, Jimmy just looks at him, and then his face shifts into an expression Dean has never seen on his face; lust. Putting his ice cream and spoon aside, Jimmy leans towards Dean until their faces are on one level and Dean feels his cool, minty breath on his face. "Are you?" Jimmy growls, and that's a challenge if Dean ever heard one.

Naturally Dean answers that challenge; he reaches towards Jimmy and grabs his collar to pull him in. Jimmy follows willingly and eagerly climbs into Dean's lap, wrapping one arm around Dean's shoulders and cupping Dean's face with the other hand. Their lips meet at the same time as Dean settles his hands on Jimmy's hips, and Dean forgets all his plans about pulling Jimmy closer, about copping a feel of his nice little ass. Because Jimmy's lips are cool and minty and soft, and Jimmy's eyelashes flutter shut when Dean pushes more firmly against them. Dean can actually _feel_ him shiver when he slides the tip of his tongue into the corner of Jimmy's mouth, glides it along his upper lip. Dean can admit at least to himself that he completely adores the shape of Jimmy's lips, and they feel and taste as good as they look. When Jimmy opens his mouth in a clear invitation Dean is almost reluctant to take his tongue off of Jimmy's lips, but then he pushes it into Jimmy's mouth and finds a whole new world to discover. Jimmy's tongue is quick and agile, wrapping around Dean's and pulling him in, closer. Jimmy's whole mouth tastes minty and bittersweet from the dark chocolate chips and Dean eagerly chases the taste, sucks it off his tongue. Which actually makes Jimmy moan, and that's so incredibly _hot_. All of a sudden, Dean is aware again of Jimmy's whole body close by, straddling Dean's lap; he tightens his grip on Jimmy's hips and pulls him closer.

Jimmy goes willingly, but then he suddenly freezes. After a moment of complete stillness he pulls away, his expression wild and- Dean doesn't know what else, but it's definitely not how he wants a person to look like when he is about to have sex with them.

It's a weird, breathless moment. Jimmy doesn't move out of Dean's space, doesn't even climb off Dean's lap, but he somehow feels like he's suddenly very far away. Dean watches, confused and breathless and with his heart pounding in his ears as Jimmy closes his eyes and licks his lips, sucks his lower lip into his mouth like- like he's chasing Dean's taste. Like he thinks they're not going to kiss again.

"Jimmy?" Dean whispers when Jimmy doesn't move for the longest time. He doesn't know why he feels like he has to keep his voice so quiet, but it seems to him like one wrong move, a loud noise or a twitch of his muscles, could spook Jimmy. Like something terrible is going to happen.

Jimmy jolts as if shocked and opens his eyes. He rasps, voice rough, "I need to tell you something."

Dean gets a very bad feeling about this. "Okay… what is it?"

Jimmy takes a deep breath. "I… I really like you."

Somehow, Dean doesn't think that's really it, and so he doesn't say anything, just waits.

"I…" Jimmy takes another deep breath and tightens his grip around Dean's neck, leans in to bring their foreheads together. "I've never told anybody else. I… made a promise, to someone, once upon a time, that I'd never tell."

"You don't have to tell me, then," Dean says, uncomfortable with the whole thing.

"No, no, I do," Jimmy replies. "I realized a long time ago that the reason he made me promise was because I was… naïve. I didn't realize that there's some things you should only tell a select number of people. I didn't really understand trust."

By this point Dean gets that Jimmy is working himself up to telling him the real issue, but all these mysterious hints make him impatient. He doesn't say anything, though, just waits.

"Okay," Jimmy suddenly says, pushing away from Dean and sliding off his lap to sit in front of him on the bed. He looks at Dean earnestly and says, "I'm not human."

For the first couple of seconds, Dean thinks nothing. Then he thinks, "bullshit." Because he has seen Jimmy handle all kinds of weaponry and harmful materials, from holy water over silver and salt to dead man's blood. He knows for a fact that the Roadhouse is a fortress, equipped with all kind of safety measures – including hexbags – to keep all kinds of evils out; the bar has even been blessed by a priest. There's no way a monster could get in there. It's impossible.

Possibly, Jimmy is insane. "What do you mean, you're not human?" Dean asks very carefully.

Jimmy licks his lips. "I'm not a creature like the ones you're thinking of right now," he says. Dean notices how he doesn't say he's not a creature at the same time as he wonders if Jimmy really knows what he's thinking – if he can really read his thoughts. And then Jimmy says, "I'm… I'm an angel."

Dean has another blank moment, and then he wonders if that's why Jimmy was in that hospital – he's delusional. Which in their line of business isn't all that unusual either, but usually people are a little less defined in their madness.

"I'm not crazy," Jimmy says, sounding slightly impatient.

It's probably not that difficult to figure out what Dean is thinking; it doesn't at all mean that Jimmy can read his thoughts.

"My name is not James Novak," Jimmy says."My name is Castiel."

"Right," Dean says, shaking his head. He wonders what this means. Obviously, Jimmy is still functional and able to work as a hunter despite his delusion, and over the past four months he has seemed like a normal person to Dean. Maybe this angel-thing just doesn't come into play all that often. When Dean thinks about it, it doesn't even seem all that far-fetched; after all, they do travel around and rid the world of evil things, something that would probably an angel's job, if they actually existed. Which they don't, of course.

Jimmy sighs. "I'll prove it to you. Where would you like to go?"

"Go?" Dean raises an eyebrow. "What do you mean, go?"

"A place you would like to visit, any place at all on the planet."

"Any place on the planet?" Dean repeats, somewhat dubious. What is Jimmy going to do, tell him what it looks like? Because as an angel, he's obviously fairly old and has been anywhere on the planet.

"I have been anywhere on the planet," Jimmy says after a moment. He speaks slowly, like he's explaining something to a child. "Not in my physical body, however."

This is getting better and better, but not in the good way. "Your physical body," Dean repeats, and okay, he's probably starting to come across as a bit dumb with how he keeps parroting everything Jimmy says.

Jimmy frowns. "Name any place," he orders firmly.

Dean decides to answer randomly, figuring they might as well get this out of the way once and for all. "The Grand Canyon."

With a nod, Jimmy gets up from the bed, gesturing for Dean to do the same. Giving a sigh and a roll of his eyes, Dean does so, standing up and facing Jimmy. Just as he opens his mouth to say something sarcastic Jimmy reaches out, all fingers except his index and middle finger curled into his palm, like he's trying to do a peace sign but failed to separate his fingers. He touches the tips of those fingers to Dean's forehead and suddenly they're somewhere else.

At first Dean doesn't notice because he's looking into Jimmy's eyes (how did he never notice before they can be so hypnotizing? Oh, right, he did), but there's a light breeze fanning over him and that's not right. He turns his head to the left and sees the endless expands of the blue sky, fading into the distance. That's not what captures Dean's attention, though; it's the gigantic ravines gouged into the ground by thousands of years of water. It's dusk, and the shadows at the bottom of the countless canyons are blue, only deepening the red of the ground where the tips are dipped in the last rays of sunlight.

Of course Dean knew what the Grand Canyon looks like (who doesn't?) but he's always wanted to see it with his own eyes. Now he is, and it truly is breathtaking, but he can't enjoy it the way he wants, look his fill.

At first he considers whether or not it's possible that he's not really here, that this is an illusion or a hallucination. But he can feel the ground under his socked feet – pebbly and vaguely sandy – and smell the air – dry and dusty – and are illusions really that detailed?

"We're really here," Jimmy says, and Dean's head whips to him. He hadn't even noticed himself turning away, turning his back on Jimmy, which is a serious rookie mistake. Never turn your back on your enemy, how often had his mom told him that?

Jimmy twitches, then takes a step back, lowering his gaze. "I suppose I deserved that," he says quietly. Like Dean hurt him, and okay, maybe he really is reading Dean's thoughts. If he is, though, he deserves it; he has no business poking around in Dean's head.

"Get out of my head," Dean orders; his voice sounds rough, unfamiliar.

"I'm sorry." Jimmy bites his lower lip. "I never meant to lie to you, but I'm sure you can understand why I can't just tell everyone upon our meeting?"

And fuck, it explains so much – Jimmy's quirkiness, the way he sometimes talks like he ate a dictionary, how he sometimes looks at food like he doesn't know what it is, what he's supposed to do with it – the same way he sometimes looks at people, Dean suddenly realizes.

"What are you?" Dean croaks.

"I'm an angel," Jimmy says again. Though that's not really his name, is it? "My name is Castiel."

"Angels don't exist," Dean replies sharply.

"You have said yourself that there is no way I could have gotten into the Roadhouse if I have ill intention, or are any kind of creature," Jimmy reminds him, and Dean didn't really say that, but he thought it. He still believes it, but…

"Any kind of _known_ creature," Dean replies sharply. "You could be something we don't know."

Jimmy nods. "An angel." He narrows his eyes at Dean, probably reading his thoughts.

"Get out of my head!" Dean yells, and then he turns his back on Jimmy – fuck the rules, he's in the middle of fucking Arizona when just a moment ago he was in Ohio, for fuck's sake. He needs some damn distance, some room for his thoughts. He takes a couple of steps away from Jimmy – Castiel? _fuck_ –puts his hands on his head and leans back.

Of course this had to happen to him. Of course. Of all the hunters that frequent the Roadhouse, he picks the crazy delusional guy who is not human and might even be an angel, though Dean is still not at all convinced that's actually who – _what_ – Jimmy is. Castiel. Fuck.

He could be getting laid right now. They could be having sex; right at this moment, he could be fucking Jimmy, or getting fucked by him. Maybe both, one after the other. But no, instead he's standing at the Grand Canyon, which admittedly is what he's been wanting to do for over a decade, but… not like this. He should've told Jimmy to go to the Roadhouse or something, a place Dean knows but that doesn't have the same connotations to him that this place has. If he's even really here; something he's not totally convinced of yet.

Okay. Dean closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. He can freak out later; it's time to act like he's the experienced hunter he is and ask the relevant questions.

Turning around, Dean looks at Castiel, who's been watching him calmly, but visibly nervously. "Okay. So you're an angel. Is there any way to prove it?"

Castiel hesitates. "There are summoning rituals, but as I'm already here… you could kill me. Upon death, an angel's wings are burned into the ground."

"Yeah, how about something less permanent," Dean says. "You got wings? Show me."

"You cannot perceive my true form," Castiel says. "It would burn your eyes out. However…" He licks his lips. "I could show you their shadow."

"Fine, show me their shadow," Dean says. "And then you'll explain to me what you mean by "true form"."

Castiel nods, then reaches out again with his two fingers. Dean instinctively ducks out of the way and Castiel hesitates, stays still until Dean straightens and gives him a brief nod. Castiel reaches out again, and again Dean stops him. "Wait," he says and bends down quickly, picks a red pebble off the ground. Then he nods at Castiel again and gives him permission. "Okay, now."

Jimmy – _Castiel_ , damnit – touches his fingertips to Dean's forehead again, and then they're back in their motel room. The only proof Dean has that they even left is the red pebble in his hand and the red dust on his socks.

For a moment they just look at each other, then Dean takes a step back. Castiel's eyes flicker down for a moment and when he looks up again his face is carefully blank. He takes a step back as well, and then he lowers his head just slightly. Suddenly, lightening flashes outside their window, which is weird because Dean is fairly sure the sky had been relatively clear; certainly no risk of thunderstorms the last time Dean checked. That's not what catches Dean's attention, though; it's the shadows on the wall behind Castiel – wings, slowly unfolding. They seem to be too big for the small motel room; the shadows spread over the wall behind Castiel, the ceiling, and the walls on each side of him. It's impressive and scary, and Dean won't make the mistake of calling Castiel Jimmy ever again. He's is definitely not human.

"Okay," Dean says quietly when, with the last strike of lightening, the shadows of Castiel's wings vanish. "Okay." He sinks down on the bed and pinches the bridge of his nose between thumb and forefinger.

Castiel licks his lips and hesitantly takes a step closer. When Dean doesn't react, he takes another step towards Dean and sinks down at the foot of the other bed. "My true form…" he says slowly. "My true form is approximately the size of your Chrysler Building."

"…right." Dean clears his throat. "So how come you're all…" he waves his hand to indicate the state of Castiel's body – or not his body, apparently, "…scrawny?"

"This is a vessel," Castiel says.

"Wait." Dean stands. "Are you telling me you're possessing some poor bastard right now? Like a _demon_?"

Castiel's reaction is reassuringly and suitably vehement and horrified. "No! No, I'm not like a demon. The person… Jimmy… he prayed for this. I'm not capable of entering a person's body without their permission; I can't even choose any body I want. Very few people are suitable vessels."

"So Jimmy Novak actually exists," Dean asks, slowly sitting down again.

Castiel turns his face away. "I don't know."

"What does that mean?" Dean's voice is sharp, he knows that, but this is a very serious issue. "You move into his body and he has to move out?"

"That's not how it works," Castiel explains. "Usually, if an angel leaves a person's body, the person just continues their life." He hesitates, then slumps a little. "I best explain from the beginning." With that, Castiel pushes himself further on the bed and pulls his legs up, hugging his knees. His black socks, Dean notes, are dusted with red as well.

"It all started when… my superior and very dear friend, Anael, fell. To understand how drastic a decision that was, you first have to understand that angels… we live in Heaven. We don't interact with humans unless by orders. It's very traumatic an act, falling; you literally have to rip out your grace, and then both of you plummet to Earth. The angel is born nine months later to a previously barren couple with no memories of who they had been, and the grace… grace is the source of an angel's power. It's… it's pure creation." Castiel turns silent, obviously lost in his thoughts, and Dean tries not to think about the pain that is plain in Castiel's voice.

After a brief moment, Castiel takes a breath and continues. He tries to keep his voice distant, but sometimes it almost breaks under the emotions he obviously feels. "When an angel falls, it's not just traumatic for them, it's traumatic for all the other angels. We feel their pain like it's our own. You have to realize, we've been together since before time began, all angels in one place, aware of each other constantly. When one of them leaves, there is a hole where they have once been, a discord in the song, and it never goes away. Lately, many of our brothers and sisters have fallen. Anael… one of the last things she said to me before she fell was, "I want life". I didn't understand."

There's another moment of silence. Castiel is lost in memories, and Dean just looks at him and tries not to feel like he can imagine what that must have felt like, to lose someone so close to you like that – because they want something different, something entirely different from what you want. Something that doesn't include you.

"I think I understand somewhat, now," Castiel continues eventually. "But I didn't, not for a long time. Even after I came to Earth."

Dean clears his throat; he has to do it twice before he can speak. "Did you… fall?"

"Not technically," Castiel replies. "I… once an angel falls, they're considered an abomination by some. We have standing orders to kill a fallen angel if we ever come across one – we're not ordered to search for them, but it's also not forbidden. And eighteen years ago, a year after Anael fell, I was ordered to kill her."

"She… wait. She was one year old at the time and had no memories of her time as an angel? How was she a threat?" That's appalling.

Castiel looks up at him and nods. "That's what I said. But in heaven… there's a clear chain of command. If you get an order, you're not supposed to argue; you're expected to follow that order immediately, and to the letter. If you disobey, you will be punished, and if you continue to rebel, you will be hunted down and killed."

It's possibly somewhat pathological and a lot fucked up, but it's that that makes Dean start to believe that heaven and angels truly exist. The paradisiacal place humans imagine heaven to be seemed pretty impossible to Dean, as did the benevolent, gentle, helpful beings angels are considered to be. This? It's completely screwed up and sucks, but that's what Dean considers life to be like.

"So you disobeyed," Dean extrapolates.

For the first time since he curled up on the bed, Castiel looks up and meets Dean's eyes. "Yes," is all he says.

"What happened?"

Castiel looks away from Dean again, once more drifting off into his memories. "I was… punished. Afterwards I… I admit, I almost followed through on my orders, but when I saw her… she was _alive_. She didn't know who she had once been; she wasn't my friend anymore. But that's what she had wanted. I just couldn't kill her for that. But they knew where she was, so I… I went to James Novak. At the time he was seven years old, and his sister Claire was four, and she was dying of leukemia. Jimmy gave me permission to move into his body if in exchange, I heal Claire. I did as he asked and then I went to Anna's parents. I explained the situation to them and made it so they and Anna would be hidden from angel sight. I collected Anna's grace and gave it to them, in case they're ever discovered, and then I… hid. Deep in Jimmy's mind. I didn't live his life for him; I didn't even watch him. Most of the time I… dozed."

"To hide from the other angels," Dean clarifies.

Castiel looks up, and there are actually tears in his eyes. "To let Jimmy live his life without me impeding it and him in any way."

"I gather it didn't work," Dean says, uncomfortable with how clearly this is getting to Castiel.

"I don't know what happened," Castiel explains, and his voice takes on a vaguely pleading tone. "I didn't do anything. If Jimmy asked it of me, I hid so far away he couldn't even feel me. At the beginning we conversed a lot, but he stopped talking to me eventually. And then, one day, I just… woke up in his body. And Jimmy was hiding the same way I had been hiding before, He wouldn't speak to me, didn't even react. I had no idea what was going on. That was ten years ago."

"Eight years after you moved in," Dean realizes. "He had been living with you longer than he had lived without you."

Castiel looks up, eyes wide as he stares at Dean. Then he lowers his gaze. "You got it immediately," he says quietly. "It took me five years."

An uncomfortable silence falls. Eventually, Dean shifts and asks hesitantly, "Did Jimmy… did he ever talk to you again?"

"In a manner of speaking," Castiel says. "I… it was very difficult for me, having to pretend to be Jimmy. I had promised to him I would never, ever tell anyone who I really am; he said that if I take control of his body I had to pretend to be him. I didn't really understand why, but he had made me swear, so I didn't. At the beginning, I was busy trying to learn to be human, how to not appear weird or make anyone suspicious, but eventually, I… I started having real problems. And when Jimmy was nineteen… I was… asleep. And he took control of his body and slit his wrists."

"Fuck." Dean curses and lets his head drop into his hand. "Fuck." He processes this for a moment. "You hadn't heard from him since he was fifteen?"

"Not a word, in over four years," Castiel says very quietly. "And then he tries to kill himself."

"You both, you mean," Dean replies.

But Castiel shakes his head. "He knew I could heal him. He was clinically dead for over four minutes. The only reason his body didn't die, didn't sustain permanent damage was because of me." His mouth twists dryly, bitterly. "The doctors called it a miracle."

Yeah, Dean can see where that would be funny. He's almost afraid to ask his next question, but... "And… afterwards?"

Castiel says, "Jimmy wanted to kill himself. He succeeded." His face is expressionless, but his voice expresses his grief and confusion, his guilt.

"You think it's your fault," Dean infers quietly.

Castiel's face whips up and he frowns. "Of course it's my fault! I didn't understand eighteen years ago, but I know now the sanctity of their body is most precious to a human. What I did to him… it was worse than rape, because it happened to his mind as well as his body, and it didn't stop."

Okay, no, Dean can't accept that. "Cas," he says sharply and leans forwards. "If I, at any point in my life, would have had to choose between letting an angel share my body and saving Sam's life, I would have chosen to save Sammy, and I would never have regretted it." Castiel blinks and looks at him. "Cas, you gave this guy a gift," Dean emphasizes. "Without you, his sister would have died, right?"

Castiel nods.

"And if he had asked you, you would have left his body, right?"

"I think so," Castiel says, lowering his gaze. "I… I don't know, though. My brothers and sisters… they would know where I am as soon as I left my vessel."

"You would have left," Dean says. He's sure of that; he got to know Castiel over the past couple of months, and while he still doesn't know what to do with the knowledge that he's an angel, that doesn't change the things Castiel did. No matter whether he's human or not, he's still the guy who makes children who just lost their dad smile, who feeds alley cats and who tries his level best to make the world a little better, one malevolent ghost brought to rest at a time. If Dean knows one thing about him, it's that it's not revenge that is driving Castiel; it's something else. Guilt, maybe, considering what he's just been told. "You would have seen how miserable Jimmy is with you there, and you would have left, no matter the consequences to yourself."

Castiel looks at Dean for a long moment; it makes Dean uncomfortable, to be under this focused attention, and not just because he's not sure if Castiel isn't reading his thoughts right now.

Eventually, Castiel nods and lowers his gaze.

After that, things turn awkward very quickly, at least for Dean. Neither of them says anything else; Dean seriously needs some time to process everything he just heard, to make up his mind and figure out what he thinks.

And the best way for him to think is to work on his baby. "I'm going to do some work on the Impala."

Castiel looks up and nods. "Dean," he calls just as Dean reaches for the door. "I would understand if you… no longer feel that you can trust me."

Dean turns around and crosses his arms. He wants to tell him that that's bullshit, but he can't honestly do that – he's just too confused, has no idea what he really thinks and feels about the whole thing. So all he can say is, "I need time to think."

Castiel just nods.

The Impala is, of course, in stellar condition. Dean very regularly checks her over, but the fact is they drive a lot, so there's always something more to be done. It's almost meditational; Dean has a fixed order of what he checks through how, and he quickly gets into the rhythm of it. Within half an hour he's dirty and sweaty and humming under his breath. With his hands busy he had time to think and he recalls the time before his dad died; his mom had been very different back then, loving and caring. Not that that's not how she is now, but she's hardened, gotten very authoritarian. With John Winchester she not only lost the love of her life and the father of her two sons but her one chance at a normal life; all her hope that she'd ever be able to leave the hunter world behind. It changed her a lot, and one of the things that Dean clearly remembers is that before, every time she brought him and Sam to bed she'd tell them, "Angels are watching over you." After John Winchester's death, she had never said it again.

Dean thinks it's very ironic that now, nineteen years after that demon invaded their house and murdered his father, he finds out that angels are real but that they certainly don't do any watching out for anyone.

Of course he understands why Castiel didn't tell anyone who – and what, most importantly – he really is. Most people don't believe in the supernatural to begin with and would at best consider him delusional. And those who know that supernatural creatures really exist would probably react similarly to how Dean reacted at the beginning; with suspicion and mistrust. Dean still doesn't know how far he can trust Castiel; despite what he said earlier, about Castiel leaving Jimmy if Jimmy had asked, he's not sure he can really trust him. Castiel is not human, all things considered, and who knows what that really means. Demons are very good at faking humanity, after all, but that doesn't mean they're not monsters.

But if what Castiel told him is true, Dean doesn't think it's his fault what happened to Jimmy, what he did. Jimmy should have talked to him; to Dean it looks like he just took the easy way out and threw Castiel into the cold water, leaving him completely alone in a world that he barely knew how to deal with. The whole thing is fairly mysterious, though, so Dean is really not sure if what Castiel told him is the truth, or if that's all there is to it. On the other hand, it sounds just confusing and fucked up enough to be real.

About two hours of taking care of and cleaning up the Impala later, Dean feels calm and collected. He has a bunch of questions he wants to ask Castiel because he has decided that there's just no way to decide just like that whether or not Castiel is trustworthy or not. Dean needs to know more about everything.

When he gets back into their hotel room, Castiel is still sitting with his arms wrapped around his knees, the same position he was in when Dean had left. He's staring out of the window, and the expression he wears is very familiar to Dean – he sees it on his own face when he thinks too much about stuff. And not the good kind of thinking that leads to solutions either; the kind where you turn bad things over in your head over and over again until it's all you can think about.

It's not a good expression, so Dean closes the door none-too-gently to startle Castiel out of his thoughts. It works; Castiel turns his head to look at him.

"Dean," he says.

"Cas," Dean returns. "I have some questions."

"Of course." Castiel lets his knees down and crosses his legs, hands folding in his lap. It doesn't at all seem relaxed like he usually looks when he sits like that.

Dean washes his hands and gets both of them a bottle of water, sitting down on his own bed. He decides to start at the basics. "What is an angel, really?"

"We are God's soldiers," Castiel replies immediately. "We were made to execute His will."

"But that's not what you do now," Dean infers. It's a leap, admittedly, but there's a bitter undertone in Castiel's voice that Dean recognizes. It's the same tone Sam would use during that phase where everything Dean did was wrong and bad. Sometimes Dean's not sure Sam ever got out of that phase, really.

Castiel looks up to meet his gaze fleetingly before his eyes slide to the side. His mouth twists bitterly. "We haven't executes anybody's will in millennia," he says. "Our father has been gone for longer than that."

Oh, Dean knows all about absent fathers. "So God is gone, huh? Somehow, I'm not very surprised."

"I can't say I was either, when I figured it out," Castiel replies plaintively, looking down into his lap.

"How did you figure it out?"

"When they were so intent on killing Anna – on having _me_ kill her – I was confused, but their reaction when I refused… we didn't use to be this intent on exterminating the fallen, before," Castiel explains, still in that quiet, hurt tone of voice. "I considered falling myself, but when I saw… it's too dangerous, leaves one too vulnerable; no grace, no memories, with the odds being that I would be murdered before I even reached adulthood as a human. And I realized… God had given the humans free will. He didn't execute Lucifer, even when he went against orders, when he left. We, the angels… maybe He gave us free will, but nobody ever told us. And maybe those of us who violently disapprove of falling… maybe they use their free will to pass judgment upon them even though it's not their place. There haven't been any orders in so long; many of us are desperate for anything, any kind of direction to follow."

"So what you're saying is, basically anybody could come along, and if they tell people – angels – what to do they'll be so grateful for something to do they'll do it without question?"

"Yes."

"That's fucked up," Dean says. "Is there really nobody who doesn't follow like a blind sheep?"

"I'm sure there are," Castiel replies dryly. "I'm equally sure that many of them have either fallen or rebelled, and were probably killed for it."

Awesome. "So what's their agenda? What do they want?"

Castiel shrugs. "As far as I know, there isn't much of one, except to find and execute all fallen and rebellious angels."

"Which includes you," Dean suddenly figures out. "Oh, crap. Are we in danger?"

Looking up to meet Dean's eyes, Castiel blinks, tilting his head. "Not as such, no. I've never been discovered, and should I ever be… they wouldn't kill you, as long as they get to me. I promise you, Dean, I'll make sure you'll be safe, should that ever happen. But I've been careful, and I don't think it will."

Dean gives a slow nod. "Okay. So… what can you do? In general, I mean."

"I can fly, heal wounds, and exorcise or kill demons and other evil creatures," Castiel discloses. "There are some other minor things I can do, but those are the principal abilities I have."

"When you took me to the Grand Canyon, that was flying?" Dean clarifies. When Castiel nods he inclines his head in approval. He can certainly get behind that kind of flying; instantaneous and not requiring actually getting lifted off the ground.

Suddenly, Dean sits up straight. "Did you say you can kill demons?" Because nobody knows how to kill a demon; all they can do is exorcise one.

"Yes," Castiel says. "And other creatures."

That's something Dean will have to get back to later; for now, he's focusing on the killing demons part. If they'll ever find the demon that killed John Winchester, Castiel could kill it; stop it from existing. That would be so much better than just exorcising it.

"Can you teach me?"

But Castiel shakes his head. "It's not something that can be passed on. It's an ability dependant on my grace. I don't use it much, because the more I use it, the less I have of it. The only thing that I can't do without my grace is kill demons, so that's the only thing I do with it."

Dean nods slowly. He's disappointed, naturally, but when his mom catches the demon that killed his dad, at least someone will be able to kill it, even if it's not Dean. Who it is doesn't really matter anyway, as long as it happens at all.

*

Dean can't stop thinking about Castiel's ability to kill demons. He's never heard of it even being possible before; he's tempted to call Bobby to check if he knows anything (if anyone does, it's Bobby), but it's probably going to be a bit suspicious if he asks just out of nowhere. Castiel and he haven't said a word to each other since Dean asked whether Castiel can teach him or not, which was about an hour ago. Dean is off deep in his own thoughts, still working through everything, and Castiel is staring at the wall.

For a moment Dean just looks at him – a part of him keeps returning to the fact that Castiel is not Jimmy, he doesn't even know him at all, but he can't make himself truly believe it. It confuses him, because since he was four years old he had been taught again and again that all creatures are bad, even ghosts that don't do anything need to be exorcised because they can turn evil at one point. But when Dean thinks about what his mom would say if she knew angels exist, if she knew the things Castiel told Dean, he just has no idea how she would react, what she would say. She definitely wouldn't have approved of Dean just accepting things like that, but Dean can't bring himself to feel bad about it. He knows the person Castiel was when he went under Jimmy's name, and that guy and the real Castiel can't be that far removed from each other.

Dean had considered Castiel/Jimmy his friend, and he can't just switch that off. Neither can he switch off the fact that he wants to nail him like mad, but at least there are some issues he has to work through before he can decide whether he's really going to follow through on that (again) or not – namely, the fact that this is not really Castiel's body. As frustrated as he had been at the time, in hindsight he's quite relieved that Castiel stopped things when he did.

"Okay, Cas," Dean eventually says. Castiel twitches and looks at him, clearly startled, like he forgot Dean was even in the room. "Let's go get something to eat."

Cas glances towards the Chinese food he got earlier, when Dean was talking to his mom – it feels like that was an eternity ago, but it has probably been just four hours. The food is completely unappetizing by now, though, and Cas nods quietly and gets up at Dean's prompting.

They walk over to the diner close by and it's as they both order soda to drink that Dean suddenly remembers his previous deduction that Jimmy/Castiel had been an alcoholic once upon a time. It's a chilling thought; he doesn't really know why, but all of a sudden the idea really freaks him out. He remembers that Castiel had mentioned that he had had "problems", but Dean had been too occupied with the bigger issues at the time – understandable, really, but all of a sudden, he really needs to know.

It's certainly not appropriate dinner conversation, but Dean honestly can't wait even the half hour it'll probably take before they get back into their motel room. "You said you had problems, earlier," he says quietly. "What were they?"

Castiel freezes for a moment and then he suddenly deflates like somebody took all the air out of him. His gaze drops to the table in front of him. He doesn't say anything for so long that Dean starts to think he never will – he can't take his question back, though. Maybe he should, but he needs to know.

Eventually, Castiel says, voice so quiet Dean has to lean across the table to understand him, "It just... it all got too much. I was insanely lonely, I still didn't understand humanity half the time, and at school people were not nice to me." High school kids can be vicious, Dean knows. Often enough, he had had to defend Sam from some idiotic bullies, and he himself hadn't been left in peace either at the time, always the weird new kid. "I just... I had all these issues, all these problems, and no way to get help. I needed to assert control over something in my life. I picked food. Though "picking" is really the wrong choice of words." He snorts, but there is no amusement in him, just bitter nostalgia. "It bothered me. The way food goes out of the body, you know? So I started eating less and less, went from solid food to exclusively liquid food. It made me feel good, that I could affect the body in such a way that it would not make me as uncomfortable. Naturally, it didn't go well." Castiel licks his lips and turns his face to the window, obviously not seeing anything at all but his memories. "People eventually realized somewhat what was happening, and they made me see a therapist. They called it anorexia and I guess that's close enough, even though it wasn't really my issue."

Castiel pauses and at first Dean doesn't really get why, but then the waitress reaches their table and puts both their meals in front of them. Dean doesn't even make the effort to thank and wink at her the way he usually does no matter how attracted he is to someone; he's completely focused on Castiel. Faintly, he remembers how Ellen told him right at the beginning that he should make sure Castiel/Jimmy eats regularly; he doesn't even know if he ever did. He's not going to make that mistake again.

"Cas," he says quietly when, long after the waitress has left, Castiel still hasn't made a move towards his food. "You should eat."

Castiel nods slowly and picks up his fork, stabs one pea and puts it into his mouth. For some reason, it looks like it's a huge effort, and Dean now definitely wishes he had been able to restrain his curiosity at least until after they've eaten. Cas is obviously lost in memories that bring him too close to how he felt at the time.

"I got better, for a while," Castiel eventually continues, more toying with his peas than actually eating them. "I learned to accept what was going to happen if I eat solid food – mostly because it had been made drastically clear to me that I was going to destroy Jimmy's body, possibly even kill him, if I continued on the same path. But of course, my real problem hadn't at all been solved, and I couldn't speak to my therapist about it. They deemed me healed eventually, and for a couple of months I managed to pretend I actually was okay. Then I found something different to get lost in, to control – though it's really an illusion, control. Most of the time we are the ones being controlled by something that we think we're controlling, isn't that ironic?"

"Yeah," Dean says quietly. He looks down at his own plate, still mostly full as well; he doesn't really feel like eating either right now. He's almost afraid to ask, but he's never backed down from knowing something; he won't this time. "What did you try to control next?"

"I'm actually not really sure it was really about control that time," Castiel says thoughtfully. "It was really more a distraction, something to focus on – I desperately needed something to concentrate on, something to centre my life around. It started with sex and alcohol, and eventually it also became pills – painkillers. I figured it's fitting somehow that it's painkillers, because I definitely had pain to kill, even though it wasn't the physical kind."

Dean definitely doesn't feel like eating anymore; actually, he feels faintly ill. "So you became a drug addict." That's one vice he's never fallen victim to.

"And an alcoholic," Cas confirms quietly. "The sex was more something to make me feel alive, which is quite ironic because I took the pills and drank the alcohol to make me feel less so."

"And then Jimmy killed himself," Dean deduces quietly.

"Yes."

"Because of… what was going on with you?"

Castiel looks up, meets his eyes. "No. He was hidden so deep in my mind… he wouldn't have known what was going on. _I_ hadn't known what was going on. And when I had been curled up that tightly, I had barely been aware of him, much less of what was happening around him."

"Can you be totally sure, though?" Dean asks very quietly, carefully. It's not like he likes the idea, but still. It's impossible Cas has complete recollection of that time, not with the chemicals affecting his brain.

However… "I'm an angel, Dean," Castiel says sadly. "I can't forget anything."

Well, that must suck. "What... what happened after Jimmy tried to kill you?"

Castiel shrugs laconically. "I was put in a mental hospital, of course. I stayed there for about a year, working through a lot of my issues. I figured out some ways to describe my problems with human analogies without revealing what really was going on."

"Is that how you met Alan?"

"No." Castiel shakes his head. "Alan... the hospital I met Alan at was a normal one, not a mental facility. A couple of months after I got out of the mental hospital I had a small... accident." His mouth twists a little. "Now I'm not really sure how it happened – maybe I was falling back into established patterns, only with something new again. I... hurt myself. Human pain is a weird thing, in how there's a difference between physical and mental pain; for an angel, both are one in the same. I had been marveling at that for a while, but I did more the opposite; I tried to numb the emotional hurt by numbing the body. Shortly before I met Alan... the problem was, I was too immersed in myself. I couldn't see the point in living life as a human; there was nothing I wanted to do, nothing I couldn't do much better as an angel, and it all seemed so... mundane to me. People expected me to have a goal, but I didn't – all I wanted was not to be found by my brothers and sisters because I knew they would kill me."

Dean can't even imagine that. If Sam wanted to kill him… no, Dean can't imagine it. They have their difference, but they're still brothers. He can certainly understand why just that would destroy a person – nearly destroyed Cas. His voice is very quiet when he says, "So you hurt yourself."

"I had done it before – picking at wounds, pushing into bruises, that sort of thing. After I got out of the hospital, I… Jimmy's parents, they refused to have contact with me even before Jimmy… but his sister, Claire, she… she made sure I had a place to stay, and I managed, for a couple of months, and then one day I stood at the top of the stairs and wondered what would happen if I just fell down. So I did. It's very symbolic, in hindsight. I guess I'm lucky I didn't break anything." Castiel shrugs.

"Then you were in hospital, and you met Alan," Dean concludes.

Castiel looks up, eyes startlingly clear. "He saved me. He showed me that there is something I can do that unites the human life I'm leading with the purpose I had as an angel."

"Did he know? That you're an angel."

"No." Castiel shakes his head. "I was honest when I said I had never told anyone else. Also I was honest about everything else."

Dean just nods, lowering his gaze to his plate and picking a couple of fries up. It doesn't really help much if Castiel tells him that he was honest, not if Dean isn't really sure he can trust him.

He thinks about that for a while; trust. Is the mere fact that Castiel is an angel enough reason for him not to trust him anymore? The reason why Cas didn't disclose that fact at the beginning makes sense – though it doesn't really explain why Cas told him now, all of a sudden.

His mom always taught him that all creatures are evil, but Dean has seen ghosts who never did anything bad, they just… didn't pass on. Among hunter circles, there are often stories of some kind of creature who had tried not to live according to its nature; werewolves who locked themselves in, vampires, there was even one legend-like story of a demon who had hunted other demons to exorcise them. Of course nobody really knew whether those stories were true or not, but still.

Besides, angels. There aren't many creatures that are rumored to be good, and even angels don't come off all that well if Dean remembers correctly, but at least there are no stories about angels doing truly evil things – well, except for Lucifer, of course. Maybe Dean should read the bible again to check.

"Okay," Dean says eventually. He just can't make any decisions now; he needs some time to figure out whether Jimmy and Castiel really are the same person and whether Dean's trust in him was justified. It's not like they've known each other for all that long to begin with. "Let's go to Ocala."

Cas looks up at him, eyes wide and disbelieving; then he nods quickly and gets up, sending Dean a look so grateful it embarrasses Dean. He doesn't comment on it, though, just silently pays for their untouched food and then follows Cas back to their motel room. It's too late to now make their way over to Florida the way they had planned. They've had the hunt lined up before they had even completely closed the last case. In Ocala there had been a string of deaths that were just different enough not to ring any bells with the police, but Cas had said there was something weird about it and Dean had learned that when Cas said something like that, he was right. Now he wonders whether Castiel seems to know this sort of thing because he's an angel.

Cas is unusually quiet over the next few days; so is Dean, probably. They're both lost in their own thoughts. The deaths turn out to be due to a coven of witches, which gives Dean an idea. Witches usually get their powers from a demon; it would be a great opportunity for Castiel to show Dean just how he kills a demon. Because that's the one thing Dean keepe getting back to; the more he thinks about it, the more awesome he thinks it is. Instead of sending it back to hell where it can come back from eventually it will be gone forever, just like all other creatures they rid the world of.

When he suggests it to Cas, the angel is silent for a moment, and then he just nods quietly. But when they start to develop a plan he gets more pro-active until they have a working idea. This coven isn't one of those that don't know what they're doing; no, they are definitely aware that they're selling their souls to a demon in exchange for revenge and whatever other petty needs they think they have. Castiel is going to go in and pretend to be a demon who is coming to challenge the demon the coven is dealing with.

Hopefully, the witches will then call their personal demon; if they won't do so immediately Cas is going to scare them a little. Once they start the summoning and are suitably distracted Dean is going to salt the windows and door from the outside and then, once the demon is there, Cas is going to kill it while Dean deals with the witches.

The plan is a bit weak on the part of how they're going to prevent the demon from just leaving if it wants to, but hopefully the salt will prevent it, and Cas says he doesn't need it anyway. If he doesn't want the demon to leave, it won't – not even if it leaves the body it's occupying.

It's when Castiel says that that Dean for the first time really, really feels like he's talking to an angel. Not that he doubted it before, but the casual, absolute self-assurance with which Cas says it, like there's absolutely no doubt about it...

Well, it makes him horny, which answers the question of whether or not he's even still attracted to Cas, now that he knows there's an angel inside that body and not a normal human person. Not that he has the time to think about it now; besides, there's still the question of whether or not he's comfortable having sex with a body that used to belong to somebody else, even if they're gone. There is some sort of issue there, Dean is sure of it.

The coven consists of three witches, two women and one guy in their early to mid-twenties. Dean has no idea how they managed to get tangled up in such a huge mess, but it doesn't look like they mind at all that they've murdered seven people so far out of petty revenge and jealousy. Actually they look quite cheerful about it Dean finds as he, hidden in the bushes, watches them greet each other happily as if they're about to have a coffee klatsch together instead of plan to murder somebody else. He murmurs as much to Cas who is crouching next to him, making Cas snort in agreement.

They wait a bit after the witches have gone inside; Cas has his head tilted as if he's listening for something Dean can't hear, and then he says, "They're starting." Before Dean can say anything else, Cas vanishes into thin air.

Right, that still needs some time getting used to.

A moment later there is screaming from one of the rooms at the back of the house; Dean quickly makes his way over there, ducking out of windows just in case. He finds that they've helpfully left a window open to some kind study; he uses a mirror to check whether he's in anybody's line of vision, but they're all focused on Cas. Dean uses the opportunity to check out the room, listening with half an ear to the conversation – Cas is brilliant, speaking with casual, callous arrogance, insulting the witches' knowledge since they "obviously have no idea what it means to be allied with a demon" if they don't even know "how to respond to a challenge". All Cas has to do after that is throw in another few insults, and they take the bait hook, line and sinker.

As soon as the summoning starts, Dean gets out the salt and starts salting the windowsills. Then he goes back to the helpfully open window, looks in to find the witches deeply immersed in their ritual with Cas standing aside, looking incredibly bored. Only his eyes move when Dean makes a covert gesture to capture his attention, and when Dean gestures that he's going to climb in through the window, Castiel shakes his head. With a wave towards the back door Castiel leaves the room, leaving Dean deeply confused but going to meet Cas.

"What the hell are you doing?" he whispers when Cas opens the door for him.

Cas raises one eyebrow. "If Charlie can have a coven of witches, I can have at least one."

"Charlie? Seriously? That demon's name is Charlie?" He couldn't have picked a more impressive name? But that's not what's important right now. "So I'm your witch now?" Dean raises one eyebrow and makes a show of looking Cas up and down before he smirks slowly. "I guess I can live with that."

Cas's eyes widen, and then he ducks his head and turns away, heading back into the house. "Follow me, their ritual is almost done," he says gruffly.

Mentally patting himself on the back for that, Dean follows him. The witches are sitting in a circle holding hands and chanting, a bunch of stuff (bones, herbs, blood, a grimoire they're reading from) in the middle of their triangle. There's a bunch of symbols written on the walls, most of which are of no magical significance as far as Dean can tell, but the circle they're sitting on and in is definitely the real thing.

Dean salts the door, leaving a space just a finger thick in the middle of the line of salt so the demon – Charlie, for god's sake - isn't going to sense it or be prevented from entering; Dean doesn't actually know if that's how it'd work. He's never tried to actually summon a demon and going from the kind of sacrifices you apparently need to do so he really doesn't want to either.

And then the demon appears without a sound in the middle of the room, wearing an expression a mix of annoyance and boredom. Dean, having tensely waited for his arrival, quickly closes the line of salt, but he needn't have worried; as soon as Charlie sees Castiel he pales dramatically. Maybe he tries to leave; Dean doesn't know, but he does know that Charlie backs away from Cas until he bumps into the wall. "You- you are not supposed to be here!" he stutters, and then suddenly turns on his witches. "What have you done!" he yells at them, clearly completely panicked and looking for the only outlet available.

The witches don't know what hits them. Dean can't say he's all that sorry to see them die, but seriously, all that blood spattering wasn't really necessary, in his opinion.

"That's enough," Castiel says and raises his hand.

Charlie freezes, not moving a muscle; only his eyes widen, as if he had completely forgotten Castiel's presence. He apparently isn't too focused a demon, or too organized. Or controlled.

Castiel walks towards Charlie, ignoring the blood he's stepping into, and presses his palm to the obviously completely petrified and completely panicked demon's stolen forehead. A white, bright light suddenly comes out of his eyes and mouth, and then Charlie sinks to the ground, obviously dead.

The whole thing is pretty anticlimactic, all things considered, and not very satisfying in the way of dramatic ends, but Dean is not at all disappointed. "That's it?" he asks nevertheless, because maybe he's just missing something. "Is he dead?"

Cas's shoulders slump. "Yes," he says, not turning around to face Dean.

Dean shifts on his feet, a little uncomfortable. "Well, alright, great. Let's go?"

Cas nods and walks back towards Dean, reaching out for him with his middle and index finger, but Dean ducks out of the way. "Dude, no. Didn't you say that takes a lot of energy? Grace, you called it, right? You said you try not to do it and that you're trying to save it all up for killing demons. Well, I'm all for that plan. Let's drive."

Cas frowns and looks at Dean weirdly for a moment, but then he nods and walks past him. Dean looks back into the blood-splattered room, containing a lot of magical and pseudo-magical paraphernalia, three dead witches and one dead (?) human body that once harbored a demon, and hightailes it out of there.

As usual they put on fresh clothes before they trudge back into their motel room; it's a habit by now. It's possible you don't notice you got some blood drops on your pants or something, and if the motel staff notices for you, well. Not good.

After they've taken their showers and cleaned up Dean goes out to get some food for them; take-away pasta this time. When he gets back Cas is sitting on the bed, shoulders slumped, hands in his lap. He looks pretty dejected and Dean has no idea why; he's not sure how to ask either. So instead he just hands Cas his ordered pasta with pesto - can't even order a normal spaghetti Bolognese, the guy – and fork and starts to eat his own meal.

Cas doesn't make a move to eat, though. He hasn't been eating too regularly lately, and not as much as is probably healthy; Dean has been paying attention, even though he tried not to. Cas is an adult – hell, he's probably thousands of years old – and he can make his own decisions, watch out for himself.

Right. And Dean is secretly a fan of that super-douchey pop music Sam likes so much. "Cas, you gotta eat, man."

Cas just shrugs, but he does roll up some spaghetti on his fork and puts them in his mouth. Then he chews and swallows. The whole thing looks incredibly tedious and spoils Dean's appetite.

"Cas, come on," he urges. "You haven't been eating properly since you told me about the angel thing. Is that it? Do you regret telling me?"

Immediately, Cas looks up. "No," he says quietly, but with conviction. "I don't regret it. I... sometimes I think I should've told you earlier, but I don't see how I could have, _when_ I could have. But if I hadn't told you... we were going to... and concealing something like this even with that going on... you would never have forgiven me."

Dean puts his take-away container away and swallows. "Probably not," he agrees. "But you did tell me."

"You haven't forgiven me for lying, though," Cas says, looking him straight in the eyes.

"I don't see what else you could have done," Dean returns. "Frankly, I don't get why you told me when you did. You could've just, you know. Told me to fuck off and keep my tongue out of your mouth."

For a brief moment an expression of deep longing flickers over Cas's face; it's gone so quickly, though, that Dean isn't sure it was even there a moment later. But hell if it doesn't make his heart clench.

"I enjoyed having your tongue in my mouth," Cas says. "I understand that you don't... that you don't want to... that you don't want... me anymore." He lowers his gaze for a moment, and though Dean really wants to correct him – because he's wrong; Dean still wants him, he's just not sure if that whole thing about it not truly being Cas's body is okay with him – he doesn't, just waits for whatever Cas is clearly gearing himself up to say.

"I... I felt so lonely, Dean. Even before I... rebelled. Anael left; she truly killed herself when she fell. Even if one day she's going to regain her memories, she left me, left our family. We'll never again be as close as we used to. And when I went to Jimmy... I wasn't so alone anymore. I was alone in a different way, but it was better for a while, until... and I promised him I would never, ever tell anyone I'm an angel, but I think... Jimmy is gone. He left, just like Anael did. And apart from Alan, you are the only person I've ever been close to since. I don't know why, but I just really, really wanted to tell you. I had never felt like I should, like I even wanted to, before."

"I guess you wanted... when you're close to someone, it doesn't matter if you're friends or siblings or lovers, you want them to know everything about you. You want to share yourself," Dean explains. "Hunting... it makes people close. You go through a lot of shit together; life and death, all the time. You're never really alone either; I don't think we've spent even a whole day apart since we went to take care of those werewolves." And damn, that sounds like they're actually a couple; Dean winces.

But Cas looks up, looks at Dean like he's just revealed a fundamental truth to him that he wasn't even aware of, eyes wide and shocked. For a moment they just stare at each other; then Cas lowers his gaze, clears his throat. "Yes," he says. "That's true."

Dean shrugs. "Or maybe you were just feeling lonely and really needed to tell someone."

"No." Cas's voice is very firm, even though he doesn't raise his head to look at Dean. "No. I wouldn't have told anybody but you, even if I had been hunting with somebody else instead. Alan and I hunted together for eight months, and I never even considered telling him."

Slightly embarrassed and not knowing why, Dean clears his throat. "Sounds kinda like a "it's not me, it's you" thing." Only in reverse. And sometimes Dean wishes he wouldn't open his big mouth to say really awkward things when he's feeling embarrassed.

Cas doesn't say anything for a long time, and eventually, Dean clears his throat again. "To clear things up," he says. "I still want to stick my tongue down your throat." And a few other things as well. And that wasn't any less awkward at all, well done, Dean.

Ducking his head again, Cas looks up at Dean through his eyelashes. Not in the intentionally flirty way, though Dean has seen him use that move on police officers and witnesses alike, fully aware of the impact it has on them. "But you're not going to do it."

"Not until I've worked through some of the things you told me," Dean replies honestly. "Mainly the thing where it's not really your own body I'd be doing things to."

Cas just nods, eyes flickering down again. "Also, you haven't yet forgiven me."

Not really, no, and that annoys Dean, because there are some things he hasn't told Cas either, though none of them are as substantial as the "by the way, I'm not human, I'm an angel" thing. But he doesn't really think that it's at him to forgive Cas for anything – at least not like that. Everybody is entitled to their secrets, and considering that Cas is being hunted by his own siblings…

"Eat your damn douchey pasta," is all Dean says. "Gotta keep your strength up."

Cas sends him a dry look, but obediently picks up his container and starts eating.

*

Over the next couple of weeks Dean and Cas keep hunting, and they fall into a sort of rhythm again. Not the same one as before, however; different. Cas obviously has a difficult time at the beginning, is subdued and withdrawn. Dean doesn't really get what his issue is and so he just waits, and eventually, gradually, Castiel starts to relax and Dean starts seeing the person in him again that he called Jimmy. But there are a few discrepancies; nothing big, but things that are obviously connected to the angel part of Castiel's nature. For example, he starts telling Dean if there are ghosts in the vicinity, can even find where their body is buried because a ghost is, as he puts it, tethered to its body. He also notices other creatures, at least the ones that actively use magic while they're using it – basically, he is a live detector for magic.

It's not as easy as it sounds, though; Cas can tell the intent of magic – good or bad – but that's about it, and it only works if he's close by. With a bit of an effort, he says, he could do much better, but Dean remembers the things about grace that Cas has told him – one of them that if he uses it a lot, other angels can detect him – and agrees with Cas that it's not necessary to do that. They can get rid of creatures the old-fashioned way, which takes a bit longer but is just as effective, and it keeps Cas under the radar.

It's early August when Dean has a realization, and it is that he's an idiot.

They're in Encinitas, California, where what turns out to be a lost bunyip (very lost, Dean thinks; they're normally resident to Australia) has made it a habit to lure women into the water, where it eats parts of them and stores the rest in its nest. After they have taken care of the bunyip they had discovered and salted and burned the nest – hard to imagine a more violent death than this – Dean has to shower three times before he feels clean, even though he normally isn't so fussy. And then Dean had spontaneously decided they should take a couple of days off, spend some time at the beach. He truly believes that they need some time off, but part of it might also be that his mom is currently in Stanford with Sam and she had been trying for weeks to get Dean to introduce "Jimmy" to her. Dean just hadn't felt up to it, and to be honest, he still doesn't.

But he is up to just slacking off for a couple of days; they certainly deserve it. Cas seems a bit dubious about the whole thing, something which gives Dean the impression he hasn't been on that many vacations before – which is no wonder, really, but still not something Dean can let stand.

They've been lying on the beach for about an hour when Dean notices them; a couple of chicks, giggling and glancing at them in a way Dean is very familiar with. Automatically he estimates their age; they look way above legal but Dean doesn't ever want to make a mistake with something like that, so he'll ask anyway. He's already trying to figure out what he's going to say to them once he walks up to them; it's been way too long since he got laid.

And then he pauses.

He's been acting on pure habit just now, seeing two hot girls obviously interested in him and trying to figure out a way how to get them into bed within the next couple of hours. But there is Cas lying on a towel next to him, and suddenly the idea of going and getting off with those two doesn't seem even half as appealing as it would have a couple of months ago. During those couple of months, however, and especially the past couple of weeks, he's mainly been fantasizing about Cas – it's very difficult not to, with him around all the time looking all rumpled and sexy.

So, apparently his body made its decision for him on the matter of whether or not it technically not being Cas's body is an issue. Dean turns his head, giggling girls forgotten, and looks at Cas, who is lying on his belly and has a book in front of him – it turns out he doesn't like doing nothing all that much. Dean doesn't either, normally, but every now and then he figures he deserves some time off.

"Cas," Dean says quietly.

He immediately has the angel's attention, blue eyes rising from the book to look at him questioningly. Dean suddenly realizes that it's been like that ever since Cas told him who he really is; Dean gives a cue, Cas follows.

That realization steers him off-course for a moment, leaving him wondering, but not for long, because seriously. He's on a mission to get laid. "Wanna get out of here and back to the motel?"

Cas seems confused. "I thought you wanted to take some time off."

"Yeah, I do." Dean rolls his eyes. "And during our time off, we could also spend some time _getting_ off, don't you think?"

Cas's eyes widen; he looks completely startled for a moment. Then his eyes flicker to the girls and his face turns blank. "You want me to get my things and get my own room," he says.

Dean can't remember Cas having been so thick before. "Actually, I want you to get into _our_ room so we can finish what we started before you got your case of verbal diarrhea."

For a few seconds Cas just stares at Dean; then he jumps up so fast Dean wonders for a second if he teleported. Hastily grabbing his towel, book and bottle of water, Cas makes an impatient gesture towards Dean. "What are you waiting for?"

With a wide grin Dean scrambles up, grabs his towel and hurries after Cas towards the Impala, very glad all of a sudden that he hadn't listened to Cas complain earlier that they could just as easily walk. Still, the ten minutes drive to the motel seems to take an eternity; especially with Cas sitting right next to him, wearing nothing but shorts and a t-shirt. Dean knows for a fact that he's not wearing underwear – for some reason Cas has the tendency not to, something which has been distracting Dean from the beginning.

Which is why the first thing Dean does as soon as the door to their room slams shut after them is shove his hand down the back of Cas's shorts to properly grope his ass. Well, almost the first thing, because his lips makes it to Cass' a bit faster than his hand makes it to his ass, which is maybe also because Cas meets him half way, mouth hot and eager and salty.

Dean spends a lot of time just molesting Cas's mouth; he's been imagining doing so many _things_ to those lips, it's criminal. But the _shape_ of them, their fullness, and how often the tip of Cas's tongue sneaks out to wet them, that's what really drives Dean crazy, and now that he finally gets to have him, he's going to take his time at least a little.

At first Cas lets him, staying almost pliant in Dean's arms if it weren't for the tight grip he has on Dean's hips. He isn't at all passive with his mouth, though, licking and sucking and rubbing his lips and tongue against Dean's, nibbling at his lower lip. After a while Dean finds that Cas only turns still when Dean uses his teeth on him, which he files away as a very interesting detail to be explored more thoroughly later.

And then, all of a sudden, Cas's patience runs out, and Dean finds himself being shoved backwards roughly. He falls backwards on the bed and Cas is immediately on him, straddling his hips and _grinding_. And it's not that Dean hasn't noticed they're both hard before, but _god_ , that was unexpected, and that's probably him making those noises, but he doesn't give a fuck. Dean's never been ashamed about sex.

It's hard to believe Cas isn't either because he's circling his hips slowly, torturously, face slack. His eyes are closed and he's biting his lower lip; for a moment Dean just watches him. He just looks so _good_ in that moment, blissful and… beautiful.

Dean roughly shoves the kitschy thought aside. This is incredibly hot and he ascribes part of that to how long it's been since he last got laid, but he's going to be damned if they're both going to come in their pants now – he wants to fuck Cas, or at least trade mutual blowjobs. He wants to bite him again.

So he rears up and catches Cas before he can lose his balance, takes his mouth in another kiss while he turns them around so Cas lies on his back, Dean between his legs. Then he pulls away with a last nip to Cas's lower lip and immediately moves on to his neck, at first just scraping his teeth over the sensitive skin. When Cas moans eagerly and throws his head to the side to offer himself up, Dean takes the opportunity and bites down firmly on the muscle connecting shoulder and neck, digging his teeth into skin and flesh and sucking hard. Cas does anything but protest; he groans loudly and goes slack on the bed, legs falling open even wider for Dean.

Oh yeah, that's it; Cas under him, open and pliant and horny. Dean wants to find out if he's loud, if he's the type to beg; if he can make him even if Cas is not. He pushes Cas's shirt collar down and lets go of his neck to press his teeth into the skin under his collar bone. Leaving a mark there is not as easy as with Cas's neck, but Dean wants something to be at a place right beneath Cas's collar, where he can feel it, know it's there, but nobody else will see it.

As if he's reading his thoughts – and maybe he is; right now Dean actually finds that idea damn sexy – Cas moans and pushes his hips up, trying to rub the bulge in his shorts against Dean's, making both of them shudder even though the angle is somewhat awkward. Dean grins and pulls Cas's t-shirt up at the hem, for a moment seriously considering cutting it open with the knife he has hidden in the back of his shorts just so Cas won't have to get up, won't have a chance to gather his wits at least a little. He leaves it for now, though, and instead latches on to Cas's nipple, sucking it into his mouth and scraping the sharp edge of his front teeth over the areola. Cas grunts and makes a whining, eager noise, so Dean flicks his tongue over the hardening pebble and then bites slowly, increasing the pressure gradually.

Cas's reaction makes eager shivers run down his back; he's not sure anybody has ever reacted like that to something he did, and god, that's so _hot_. Because Cas quivers and whimpers, and one of his hands flails over Dean's back, up his neck and into his hair where it comes to rest – not pushing, just staying there as a reminder.

When Dean finally lets up and pulls back, Cas's nipple is red and swollen and he looks absolutely wrecked. His hair is a mess and his eyes are big and dark, pupils blown so wide there's only a tiny sliver of blue left. Dean wants to keep him like that forever – or no, he wants to have him like that at least once a day, hopefully twice, but only so long as nobody gets to see.

Cas shivers visibly when Dean grins and flicks one fingertip over his abused nipple; it must feel incredibly rough, but Cas obviously likes it, and that's just absolutely delicious. Dean wants to do it again, but he also really, really needs to fuck Cas, so he decides to file the thought away to get back to at a later point.

When he moves off Cas and off the bed Cas actually whimpers, trying to take hold of him, but Dean moves out of the way and tells him roughly, "Lube." Cas goes quiet, but his eyes don't leave Dean for a second while Dean rummages through his bag to look for the goddamn lube, like he's afraid Dean is going to vanish if he looks away. As if Dean is the one with the ability to fly.

The lube and condom finally found, Dean quickly gets back to the bed, dropping both of them on the mattress to pull his t-shirt off quickly. His vision is blocked for only a second but when his t-shirt is out of the way, Cas is completely naked from the chest down, has the bottle of lube in one hand and the index finger of the other buried knuckle-deep in his own ass.

Dean moans loudly; his knees go weak for a second and he has to lock them so he won't sink to the ground, but seriously, Cas looks so debauched with his t-shirt racked up under his armpits, one nipple red and swollen, two bite marks decorating his neck and collarbone. His legs are spread wide and his eyes are still completely focused on Dean as he stares at him, red mouth open and panting.

"Fuck," Dean cusses and nearly stumbles when he shoves his shorts down, so eager is he. As soon as the last piece of clothing is out of the way Dean practically pounces on the bed, searching impatiently for the condom. He rips the foil package open and quickly rolls the condom down his dick, then grabs the bottle of lube from Cas's hand and squeezes some into his hand. Its cool temperature makes him gasp when he puts it to his dick, but it warms up quickly as Dean spreads it, jacking himself shamelessly, eyes flickering back and forth between Cas's face and his ass, where he is just adding the second finger.

And then Cas's eyes roll up and he moans loudly, whole body tensing as he obviously brushes by his sweet spot; Dean hears himself moan as well. After that there's little choice; he just _has_ to lean in and bite at Cas's lower lip again. Cas moans again and opens up for Dean eagerly but he doesn't have much coordination, not to mention breath, and so Dean lets up soon and moves down to put another mark on Cas's body, this time a bit lower on his body, where belly and ribcage meet. Cas whines when Dean licks over the spot with the flat of his tongue, then moans when Dean presses his teeth into it and sucks the skin into his mouth, rubbing the tip of his tongue over it. Dean can't see it anymore, not from this angle, but Cas's arm keeps moving steadily, pushing his fingers in and out of his ass.

When Dean finally lets up and takes his mouth off Cas's skin Cas groans, and Dean surely isn't imagining the undertone of disappointment in there. He has to close his eyes for a moment and indulge himself imagining the endless possibilities; it just figures that Cas is the kind of guy who likes a little pain, likes teeth and bite marks.

He opens his eyes again and moves away, sits back on his heels so he can take in the whole picture Castiel makes splayed out on the mattress in front of him like a magazine display, legs spread for Dean the way he's been imagining for weeks, months even. Cas looks like a complete, delicious mess, and he has three fingers in his ass, rhythm fast as he pushes them in and out. His white teeth are digging into his lower lip which looks as abused and red as his nipple; Dean feels quite smug knowing that it's his fault, both of them.

Then Cas pulls his fingers out of his hole and spreads his thighs even wider, so obviously showing off, _presenting_ himself to Dean.

_God._

Cas is so eager and pliant when Dean moves in that Dean doesn't even get to manhandle him; he still indulges himself a bit by taking hold of Cas's hips and dragging them closer, stuffing a pillow under them. Then he takes hold of his dick and guides it to Cas's hole. He wants to push in to the hilt and finally, finally fuck, and so that's just what he does.

The tightness and heat of Cas's body makes him groan and shiver while under him Cas tenses and moans loudly, head thrown back, teeth and neck bared. Dean spares a second to check up on him, but when Cas grunts impatiently and rolls his hips up Dean stops wasting time. He adjusts his grip on Cas's hips, pulls his own hips back until he almost slips out and then he slams back in with one powerful stroke.

They both moan loudly and in unison. Dean doesn't hold back afterwards, just does it again and again, establishing a firm, fast rhythm that is bound to drive them both crazy within minutes. Cas is actually writhing under him, throwing his head back from one side to the other, lips red and open and eyes unfocused and dark as he gives himself over completely to Dean. Just watching him and hearing the breathless, mindless noises Cas makes drives Dean almost as crazy as fucking him does, and way too early for his taste Dean is on the brink of coming. He's absolutely determined not to let himself go over before Cas comes, though, and so he grits his teeth and holds on, putting even more force behind his thrusts. "Touch yourself," he grunts hoarsely but Cas doesn't even understand him, only reacts to the sound of Dean's voice with a breathy whine and a flutter of his eyelashes.

That's so hot Dean can't hold himself back any longer; as his rhythm starts to falter he lets go of Cas's hips and wraps one hand around his leaking dick. Cas's yell mingles with his own as they both come nearly at the same time, Cas's body clamping tight around Dean's dick. Dean wishes he had forgotten the condom so that now he'd be coming in Cas's naked ass, filling him with his come. He files the thought away for next time. Half an hour at most, he thinks blurrily as he pulls out of Cas's body and drops face down next to him on the mattress.

It takes Dean quite a while to catch his breath. He feels himself starting to doze so he reluctantly rolls onto his side and pulls the condom off his dick before he makes even more a mess out of the bed than they already did. Then he turns on his other side, facing Cas, who is still lying flat on his back, breathing through his open mouth and staring at the ceiling with a stunned expression.

Dean can totally understand where he's coming from; this has to have been one of the best lays of his life.

Cas turns his head to meet his eyes, nodding slowly. Dean must've said that aloud, but it doesn't matter. It's absolutely true.

Reaching out, Dean wraps one arm around Cas and pulls him in. Cas goes willingly, slotting his body along Dean's and leaning their sweaty foreheads together like they've done this countless times before.

Hopefully there will be countless times to come yet, Dean thinks. He's just about to let himself drift off to sleep when Cas suddenly curls up and presses even closer to Dean, one arm sneaking around Dean's back. His whole body tenses but he doesn't make a sound, so only when he buries his face in Dean's chest does Dean figure out what's going on. Cas's eyelashes are wet.

"Cas?"

Dean tenses, going from pleasantly relaxed to vaguely panicked within one second. Cas doesn't reply, doesn't even react; Dean doesn't have the slightest idea what to do, and so he just tightens his arm around Cas's waist. "This isn't the kind of reaction I was hoping for," he says nervously and immediately afterwards curses himself silently. He and his big mouth.

The worst part is how Cas doesn't make any noise, doesn't move a muscle, not even to breathe for the longest time until he suddenly twitches and takes a gasping, wet breath. His eyelashes brush wetly against Dean's skin, somehow chilling him to the core even though it's warm in the room.

As if that one breath has somehow unlashed something in Cas, the angel suddenly starts to sob; he obviously tries to be quiet, holding his breath as long as he can, and this seriously freaks Dean out.

"Hey, hey," he says awkwardly, squeezing Cas, pressing his mouth to the top of his head. "Cas, stop that. Breathe."

For a moment Cas doesn't but then he gasps again, and again, and doesn't stop. Dean doesn't think he has ever seen anyone cry like this, except maybe his mom the day after the fire, but even then, she had already started to withdraw into herself. He has absolutely no idea how to react, how to comfort Cas; he wants to know what the hell is going on but Cas is clearly in no state to explain.

Cas suddenly starts to shiver. Dean bites his lower lip, getting really worried now. Squeezing him again Dean lifts his head to look around for the blanket; he finds it crumbled at the foot of the bed, where he left it this morning. Using his foot to get it within reach he pulls it over them both, up to Cas's shoulder, and then slides his arm underneath to wrap it around Cas again. "Hey," he says again, knowing it's useless but nevertheless needing to say _something_. "When I was five and Sam was just about one, my mom brought us to Ellen's for the first time." Almost subconsciously he starts to rub his hand up and down Cas's naked back; the angel's breathing starts to calm down a little so Dean hastily continues, hoping that even if Cas is not listening, at least the sound of Dean's voice might help. "It was just a couple of months after dad's death. I didn't really know what was going on, but Ellen and Bill - he's her husband, he died not long after – were nice. Jo was just a few months old at the time so there wasn't a lot to do with her yet, but they – the adults – kept talking about how Sam and Jo would make great playmates one day. I think they were hoping that mom would settle down close by or something. Anyways, I was five, and I was still well-behaved at the time – I know, hard to believe, right? – and one day Ellen makes this absolutely gorgeous apple pie. I swear to you, I've never had an apple pie that nice and I've had many apple pies in my life." He pauses, not sure where to go from here; when he had started talking he hadn't really thought much about what he was trying to do. All he wanted was to keep talking, and this story was the first thing that came to his mind. Awkward.

Cas shifts, still breathing irregularly. He turns his face a little so his stubbly cheek presses against Dean's chest and Dean really, really hopes that the only reason it's wet is because of the tears. He has no problems with body secretions, but some of them are way less pleasant than others.

"What happened then?" Cas asks, voice rough. He's still shaking a little.

"Uhm, nothing." Dean shrugs awkwardly. "That's the whole story. It's when my love for apple pie was born." Except... "Though I remember that my mom used to make apple pie too, before." Dean frowns, thinking about it. "Yeah, she did. I guess Ellen's apple pie reminded me of my mom's apple pie. She's never made apple pie again, mom, I mean." Another reason why Dean associates apple pies with happiness.

"I don't remember the first time I had apple pie," Cas says, breath hitching only a little anymore.

Dean shrugs. "I don't remember the first time I had it either."

"It seems like it's important," Cas murmurs.

For a moment Dean doesn't reply, thinking about whether or not he should ask a seriously kitschy question. But he's just fucked Cas into the mattress, and just ten minutes later Cas had had something close to a nervous breakdown; that's not something Dean wants to achieve when he puts his cock in someone. At all. "Are you alright?" he finally asks quietly.

Cas is silent for a moment, and then he nods, cheek rubbing against Dean's chest. "Yes," he replies just as quietly. "I am, now."

*

Three days of "relaxation" later (they haven't yet made it back to the beach) Sam calls.

"Dean," he says seriously after the opening small talk is out of the way. "You have to come here. Seriously."

"Why?" Dean asks suspiciously, stretching lazily and rolling completely onto his belly so Castiel has more room. He's just stroking the tips of his fingers up and down Dean's spine, which doesn't sound all that ground-shaking, but it makes Dean shiver and want to stretch out like a cat.

"She's driving me _nuts_!" Sam hisses, obviously trying to be quiet but really not managing.

Dean really doesn't feel like talking to his brother about his mother while he's lying naked in bed with Cas, just having had sex and certainly on the way to having sex again if Cas continues doing that, but he can't just hang up on Sam either. "Why? What's she doing?"

"She- she's _stalking Jess_!" Sam exclaims, outraged.

"Come on, Sammy, this is your first girlfriend we're talking about, she's just curious," Dean replies, amused.

Sam doesn't at all share this amusement. "She's not my first girlfriend, Dean, and you know it."

"Yeah, but she doesn't."

"So not the point. Dean, I meant it when I said she's stalking Jess - she's seriously following her around in her car and on foot. Jess hasn't noticed yet but if she does, she'll think mom is nuts – and she already thinks that because mom has told her some hippie crap about her being a nomad, believing in not settling down."

Dean shrugs. "There are people like that, Sammy. You should try being a bit more tolerant."

He quite enjoys the aggravated noise Sam makes, but, disappointingly, Sam makes a concerted and somewhat impressive effort to reign his temper in. "Dean," he says with a very controlled, calm tone of voice that he uses when he's about to have a temper tantrum. "I'm serious. Jess is- and mom-"

"Okay, fine. So you want me to come and do what?"

"Bring Jimmy," Sam says bluntly, and Dean startles at the mention of the name Cas went by. It's amazing how quickly he got used to calling him Cas. Probably it's also because there was a Jimmy in the same body that Cas is in, but Dean has never met him.

"I see. So you want me to bring Jimmy so mom can interrogate him instead?" Dean doesn't appreciate the idea much, but it's not like Cas won't be able to handle it. It'd probably amusing; Cas has this weird ability to stay completely calm while other people try to put pressure on him. Dean has seen him use this on police officers and the odd civilian and it's always been funny. The calmer Cas stays, the more aggravated they get.

"Yes." Sam sighs. "She won't seem that weird to Jimmy because he at least is a hunter, you know?"

"Yeah." Dean keeps silent for a moment. "You have to tell Jess at one point, if it's that serious."

It is that serious, Sam has told him so, but so far Sam has always found a reason not to tell her. It's stupid and dangerous – how can Sam know that she's really the one for him if he can't even be completely honest with her? Besides, their parents have demonstrated to them vividly that a hunter can't lead a normal life, that you can't hide from what you know, not tell your partner and hope that everything is going to go alright.

Surprisingly, though, this time Sam doesn't protest, he just stays quiet. Dean considers reminding him of their parents, but Sam knows that; Dean's brought it up once or twice when they had this discussion before. Dean doesn't approve much of Sam not telling Jess. Even with the fact that hunting is not as important to Sam as it is to Dean and Mary, it's still a part of him and they can't really afford to have someone in the family who hasn't got a clue what's going on.

"We'll be there either today or tomorrow," is all Dean says in the end. Cas's hand on his back stills in the small of his back where it's been drawing lazy, circling patterns.

"Thank you, Dean," Sam replies, audibly relieved. They don't have much to say to each other after that and soon hang up.

"We're going to visit your brother, his girlfriend and your mother," Cas more states than asks when Dean sighs and throws the phone onto the other bed.

"Yeah, to Stanford, four hundred miles," Dean replies with a sigh.

Cas is silent for a moment. Then he says, "If we pack and leave now, we'll be there today evening." Technically it's around lunchtime, but their sleeping and eating habits have gotten a bit irregular over the past three days, meaning they lost track.

Dean sighs again; he doesn't really want this vacation to be over. On the other hand, he feels _very_ relaxed, even though they strictly speaking didn't do much relaxing.

But it's no matter anyway, he told Sam they'd be there, which means they'll be there. At least he doesn't have this weird hesitation anymore about having Cas meet his family (or having his family meet Cas); he still doesn't really know what his issue really was, but at least it's gone.

They arrive in time for dinner. About half an hour out Dean calls his brother to ask where they should go and where Mary is. They try to never stay in the same motels if they've been to a city before, just as a precaution, and they also tend to be separate nowadays. It's a bit of a recent development and possibly paranoid but Dean appreciates it a lot right now. He really, really doesn't want to have to worry about his mother overhearing him and Cas while they fuck each other's brains out. Which is definitely on the plan, no matter what else happens.

After they've gotten a motel room far enough away from his mom that she won't get the idea to spontaneously come over, they head over to the restaurant where Sam told him they'd be meeting. Sam also told them to dress somewhat nicer than Dean's normal jeans and t-shirt affair; Dean just on principle refuses to. The only reason he dresses up is when he has to con someone on the job. His only concession is to put on a fresh, moss green t-shirt, and he only does that because Cas convinces his dick with his mouth. Besides, Dean knows better than to argue with someone whose teeth are that close to his balls.

Cas, on the other hand, dresses nicely; still jeans, but dark, somehow fancy-looking ones as well as a blue silky button-down shirt. He looks entirely delicious, especially with the ruffled hair and five o'clock shadow, not to mention how much more intense his eyes suddenly seem, which is saying something because Cas is equipped with some seriously intense eyes. He lets Dean grope him a little but refuses to let Dean convince him to stay in and take their clothes off instead of putting new ones on. It's not like Dean really means it anyway but still, the idea has some merit.

The restaurant Sam booked a table in looks sort of douchey, just the kind of place Sam would go for; somewhat pretentious but with a nice atmosphere and interior. The waiter glances Dean's attire over critically for a moment but then Cas looks up at him through his eyelashes, and if he was going to say something, he completely forgets to. The guy looks a little dazed as he leads them over to the table for five Sam booked and he only seems to come out of it after Dean has ordered two drinks for them – beer for himself, hot chocolate for Cas.

"Dean," Sam says, standing up; he's wearing black dress pants and a red button-down shirt. Dean could swear he's grown even more since they met in May, when Dean came over for a couple of days to celebrate Sam's birthday.

They hug; then Sam turns to the pretty blonde standing next to him. The first time they had met Dean hadn't really gotten a good look at her because Sam had kept her hidden from his sight with his gargantuan frame. At Sam's birthday she had been away because her mom had been in hospital so this is the first time Dean gets to properly look at her. She has curly hair that she has done up and she's certainly a looker; very nice figure. Not that Dean notices in any other but an academic way.

"Dean, this is Jess, my girlfriend; Jess, this is Dean, my brother," Sam introduces them, awkwardly formal. Dean restrains himself from rolling his eyes but it's a close thing.

"Hey," he says to Jess, holding out his hand. "Nice to meet you. I've heard a lot about you." Don't let it be said that he doesn't use his manners when he wants to. He just rarely does.

"Nice to meet you," Jess returns, giving his hand a firm shake. "Unfortunately, I haven't heard all that much about you." She throws Sam a look that Sam tries to ignore, but his cheeks color traitorously. Yeah, that girl has him pussy-whipped. Dean approves.

"No worries." Dean winks exaggeratedly at her. "I can tell you all you want to know."

Sam looks scandalized and exclaims "Dean!" but Jess's bright laugh drones him out. "Looking forward to it," she replies with her own exaggerated wink, causing bright red spots to appear on Sam's cheeks. Oh yes, that's a girl after Dean's heart.

"Okay." Dean rubs his hands together. Time to get his own introduction out of the way. "Sam, Jess, Jimmy. Jimmy, Sam and Jess." It's really weird to call Cas Jimmy, but no way are they going to explain the angel thing at the first meet the family thing.

"Nice, Dean," Sam grouses, rolling his eyes. He affects a nice smile and holds out his hand for Cas to shake. "Nice to meet you," he says, and his eyes are curious as he looks Cas up and down. Dean really doesn't want to know what's going through his brother's head right now.

"Nice to meet you," Cas replies politely, shaking Sam's and then Jess's hand. He's wearing his innocent face, the one that makes random people in the street walk up to him and start telling him their life story. Dean figures he's going to win Sam over in under five minutes. Mary, however, is probably not going to be so easy.

Which reminds him. "Where's mom?"

Sam grimaces and sends him a look while he replies, "She had to take care of something first, but she said she's going to be here as soon as she can."

Surprise hunt, then. They might see their mother again soon, or in a week.

They all sit down; it's a round table, with Jess and Cas sitting next to each other and Dean and Sam on their other sides respectively. "So, what do the two of you do?" Jess asks. "Sam wouldn't tell me one way or another."

Dean shrugs, not looking at Sam. "I repair cars, and Cas..."

"I help people feel better about themselves and their lives," Cas says. They had thought about what to tell Jess in the car. Cas had come up with a great way to tell her the truth without actually telling her the truth. Quite ingenious, really.

"Really?" Jess looks very interested and thus doesn't notice the surprise on Sam's face that makes way for relief and gratefulness. "What does that mean?"

"Many people are caught up in their everyday life or trapped in their past," Cas explains; Dean has to bite the inside of his cheek so as not to laugh out loud. "I help them see the good aspects of their lives. Sometimes a small change is all someone needs to feel better."

Yeah, like a silver knife between the ribs, Dean thinks with amusement. He meets Sam's eyes across the table; his little brother looks torn between relief and reproach. Should've thought sooner about whether he approved of them fooling his girlfriend. Besides, Dean and Cas aren't making fun of Jess, they are just trying not to outright lie to her while still following Sam's wish not to bring her into the loop yet, even if they don't agree with it.

The waiter chooses that moment to return with Dean's beer and Cas's hot chocolate; he still looks somewhat starry-eyed but manages to keep a professional front as he asks them if they've decided what to eat yet.

They haven't, so Sam sends him away again before he excuses himself to call their mom. As soon as he's gone Jess turns to Cas and Dean with a serious expression and asks, "Is he ever going to let me in on that big secret?"

Dean and Cas share a look. "We're working on it," Dean tells Jess then.

"He's just worried for your safety," Cas adds.

Jess looks at them both searchingly for a moment, and then she nods. "You're not really a car mechanic, are you?"

Dean shrugs. "Sometimes I am."

Jess nods again and asks them where they've all been, and where they've liked it best.

When Sam comes back he tells them that Mary said she's on the way. He and Dean share a look; that still could mean anything. She's on the way to the restaurant, she's on the way back to the city, she's on the way to the creature, to anything related to the case. Their mother has never really canceled something or given a concrete answer of when she was coming back when Sam called her. She usually left that sort of thing to Dean; when he called, she'd tell him things like "I'll be back in three days, tell Sam for me okay?" Maybe he should have called her just now but he honestly doesn't feel like it. He hates having to be the one to always give messages like that to Sam and he thinks they're really old enough not to play that game anymore.

"We should order," Dean suggests.

The evening turns out to be quite enjoyable; Jess doesn't let it show that she knows something is going on that she's not being let in on. Dean, however, has gained some respect for her for both figuring it out and not letting them all feel that she's unhappy about it – and for not breaking things off with Sam. Obviously, his little brother means enough to her that she's willing to play along for now. Dean approves.

Mary doesn't come, and Dean feels a little guilty for thinking it but he can't help but feeling that's a good thing, that he got to know Jess a little without his mother there – and that Sam got to know Cas a little without her. They can't really talk openly of course, not in public and not with Jess having no idea, but Sam has a lot of skill in keeping a conversation going without even alluding to hunting. Dean and Cas are less skilled at that, Cas even less than Dean, but since they mostly only have to react to Sam's cues that works out okay.

After the meal Jess suggests they have a drink somewhere; they all agree, Dean with the stipulation that it not be the pretentious kind of water hole Sam would choose normally. Jess gains like a billion points when she laughs and says, "I know, right? This one time, he dragged me into this place and the whole evening I was wondering what the hell was going on with those people, and to be honest with Sam too for taking me there, and then we found out that it was a Goth Club meeting that Sam hadn't known about. It explained the weird looks people had been throwing at us. I thought it was just a fluke, but the next place he takes me to, pretty much the same thing, only without it being an official meeting or anything."

"So you are a closet goth?" Cas asks Sam seriously. Dean can't hold it together anymore and starts laughing; Sam looks wounded, especially when Jess joins in. It's even funnier how Cas doesn't twitch a muscle; he only widens his eyes, affecting an innocent expression.

"Oh my god," Sam finally moans; Jess and Dean are still laughing. "I should never have introduced you to each other!" It only makes them laugh harder.

So, yeah. Dean approves of Sam's choice in girlfriends; before, he hadn't cared much, at least not in an assessing way. They made Sam happy, good. If not, well. Dean could hardly go beat them up for hurting his little brother. Jess, though, is a different matter because Sam obviously considers her "The One" (his words, not Dean's) and wants to be with her for the rest of his life. Dean is admittedly a little skeptical on that front still because they've only been together for a couple of months, but ultimately, it's Sam's choice. He's certainly not going to be actively involved in what girlfriend Sam picks.

In the end Dean gets to pick and chooses a place with a nice enough non-alcoholic menu so Cas won't have to stick to sipping his coke and sending Dean wounded puppy dog looks because he wants hot chocolate but the barman had just laughed at him. Dean might be speaking from experience there; like it's his fault Cas's preferred choice in drinks (how does hot chocolate even count as a drink, Dean wonders) is only slightly better than warm milk with honey.

And when they finally get back to their motel room hours later Cas rewards him with a blowjob, which is the kind of positive reinforcement Dean can totally get behind. He returns the favor so as to positively reinforce Cas's positive reinforcement.

The next day Jess and Sam take them on a small tour; they both have to work so they don't have much time but they take them to some kind of tower from which you have a nice view or something. Dean is sort of bored – he doesn't like standing around and staring endlessly at boring things – but he for once doesn't say anything, because Sam and Cas are in an enthusiastic conversation and Dean doesn't want them to stop from bonding. Besides, it lets him spend some time with Jess without Sam watching like a hawk – Dean has no idea what his brother is worried about; that Dean is going to sneakily tell Jess about hunting or that he's going to hit on her? Dean honestly would rather not know.

He doesn't do either, of course. He's not interested in nailing his brother's girlfriend; that would be seriously gross and pretty dysfunctional. Dean might be the latter but he's certainly not the former. Besides, Cas keeps him perfectly happy on that front.

No. Instead, he's on a mission. He and Jess get to trade embarrassing stories about Sam for almost an hour before his brother realizes that he and Cas have been walking ahead; he stops mid-step and mid-sentence and turns around, eyes wide. Jess and Dean immediately affect innocent expressions and Dean has a hard time keeping a straight face when Sam looks back and forth between them suspiciously for a moment before he asks, "You alright?"

"Sure, honey," Jess says sweetly and kisses Sam on the nose; he blushes and turns around again. Dean gives Jess the thumbs up, they share a grin and then Dean quietly finishes telling her the story of how Sam had one day woken up at three am, gotten dressed and hurried to school, certain he was late for an important exam. He'd been furious that Dean hadn't been up to drive him and he'd had to take his bike, and then seriously embarrassed when Dean had caught him as he tried to sneak back in after having found the school locked up and empty.

Jess laughs heartily. "He's still like that!" she tells Dean. "He completely freaks out when there's an exam, I almost have to knock him over the head with a baseball bat to get him to sleep for a few hours the night before."

"Know what helps? Chicken soup. Knocks him out flat for some reason." Dean snorts and shakes his head at the memories. Sometimes Sam is just weird.

Jess raises both eyebrows. "Really? I mean I noticed that he fell asleep immediately when I brought him some when he had that cold but I thought that was because he had a light fever."

"Nope, it was the chicken soup," Dean replies. "If you're careful he won't notice either. So far he hasn't caught on, and if he does it might not work anymore."

"How can I give him chicken soup without him noticing?" Jess asks dubiously.

Dean smirks. "That's the beauty of it; you don't have to find an excuse or anything. I told him ages ago that chicken soup helps clear the head, and he still believes it."

Jess smiles but falls quiet for a moment. "So you really raised him, huh?" she eventually asks. "I mean he never really said, but your mother told me herself that she's a nomad, and of the few things about his past that he's told me… you're always a predominant figure."

"I'm his big brother. Of course I take care of him." Dean shrugs, staring at Sam's broad back. Normally he doesn't like talking about it, but this is his brother's girlfriend. Dean doesn't really approve of leaving a person unaware.

Jess doesn't pry any further, and for a while they trudge in silence after Cas and Sam, who are talking about some weird band. Cas, as Dean has learned since the first time they met, is interested in all kinds of music. Dean has a very hard time extricating some sort of opinion out of him – eventually he has accepted that Cas just refuses to prefer one artist over the other. Comparing songs, on the other hand, is a different matter; it's much easier getting him to name a preference there. Which doesn't mean it's easy in general but it's at least some sort of opinion. And Dean is decidedly smug that his music often comes out on top. As it deserves to, naturally.

After Sam and Jess have gone off to work Dean and Cas head back to their hotel room for some one on one time. Dean doesn't think he's ever had that much sex in such a short period of time but he'd be a fool not to take the opportunity as it presents itself to him, especially since it comes in such a nice form. Cas is smoking hot, but even better is the way he acts in bed; shameless and greedy, taking what he wants without hesitation, be it getting thoroughly fucked into the mattress by Dean or being the one to fuck Dean into the mattress instead. Dean couldn't have had a better time if he were fantasizing.

In the evening they decide to go watch a movie; even Dean can't fuck the whole day and it's been ages since he last went to the movie theater. The movie they watch isn't all that interesting; watching horror movies is a bit of an overkill considering their job, and romance and comedy aren't their thing either so they had ended up picking some random action flick. It gave what it promised; explosions and a fast pace, which was all Dean really needs to relax sometimes. Afterwards Cas convinces him to go into a seafood restaurant, because apparently he has a craving and it's to Dean's benefit as well to indulge Cas when he wants something. Dean clearly sees the point, especially when afterwards Cas cuffs Dean's wrist to the headboard, gives him a breathtaking blowjob and then fucks him lazily until Dean gets hard again before he races them both to a glorious finish. It's definitely in Dean's interest to indulge Cas's wishes.

The next day they meet up with Sam and Jess again; Dean doesn't really get why the two feel the need to drag them across their campus to show them stuff, but they apparently do. For the sake of peace Dean doesn't complain.

Dean doesn't realize it might be a problem until Sam and Jess drag them to what they call "The Mausoleum". Sam, Dean and Cas, but especially Dean and Cas, have certainly been to more than enough gravesites to last them a lifetime; they certainly wouldn't go look at one for fun or whatever it is that makes people go to graveyards. It strikes Dean as a bit macabre too but Sam is obviously determined to seem like a "normal" person (Sam's choice of words, not Dean's), so Dean has to play along.

That's not the issue though; the issue is the stupid angle statue. A stupid angel bent over a stone, sort of curled around it in a pose that Jess calls "weeping". The whole thing's name actually is "Angel of Grief".

Of course they've come across angel stuff before; it's sort of hard to avoid it because angels are pretty predominant figures in western mythology. People consider them romantic and good which, ever since Dean knows better for a fact, has always struck him as particularly ironic. But Cas has never seemed to particularly care or even notice, so Dean doesn't know what it is about this statue that makes him falter noticeably. Cas covers the stutter in his step up nicely but Dean has caught it, and for some reason it makes him angry. At whom, he doesn't know; he just wants to take Cas away and ply him with hot chocolate or something. Cheer him up.

But of course nothing is wrong; at least not if they're "normal" people, the way Sam wants them to be. Dean wouldn't give a fuck and leave anyway if really necessary, but Cas's face is calm and unaffected as he tells Jess that it's "impressive craftsmanship". All there is is a hint of blankness in his eyes; the other two obviously don't notice. But Dean does, and it makes him grumpy. He steps closer to Cas, almost pressing their bodies together, and puts his hand in the small of Cas's back. For a moment Cas's spine goes rigid but then he relaxes and leans back into Dean's hand.

Cas doesn't say a thing as Jess tells them just why she loves the statue so, doesn't show at all that things aren't perfectly fine. Still, Dean can tell they're not from the way Cas's smile is delayed by just a fraction, from how Cas's eyes will flicker to the angel and away again as if he can't look at it, but is equally unable to really look away. Jess is oblivious, chattering on about it's "dramatic pose" and the "tragic emotion" and "grief" it displays and how everything seems all the more grave because it's an angel, not a mere human, that's doing the weeping, blahblahblah.

Neither Sam nor Jess catch on to the change in mood; Dean figures that's a good thing because then they'd have to explain but couldn't even if Jess were in on the whole hunter business. Cas manages to pretend much better that nothing is wrong than Dean generally is able to. It's maybe funny in some way and Dean doesn't know whether he likes it or not – in the end it 's probably a good thing though. If Sam catches on to his mood he'll probably attribute it to their going to stare at art or whatever, something which Dean has never been much of a fan of.

After the tour they go have an early lunch, and then Sam and Jess have to go off to work again which leaves Dean and Cas a bit bored. They go back to their motel and fuck again. It's really one of Dean's favorite things to do but you can only have so much sex before you feel a bit unchallenged – and chafed. Cas looks a bit directionless as well and Dean is actually considering asking him what that was about with the angel.

It's that last thought that makes Dean decide that they seriously need to find something to do. He's very tempted for a moment to look for a hunt close by but Sam would kill him, and besides their mother had taught them not to hunt too close to home; better if the evil things don't know quite where to find you. This isn't really Dean's home but it's Sam's so that's close enough in Dean's opinion.

Problem is, Dean can't really think of anything. Usually he hunts or works on his car, but the Impala is in mint condition and hunting is off the list. His other favorite activities - sex, food - he already has in abundance. Just spending the day lolling around in the motel room is out too; Dean's been doing that too much lately, he's starting to feel restless. Which is why he turns to Cas, who is lying on his belly and flicking through a magazine, and asks, "Cas, wanna do anything?"

Cas looks up. "I appreciate the thought, but I don't think I'm quite up to getting it up again just yet."

"That's not what I meant." Dean rolls his eyes. Though Cas does look good enough to eat, completely naked and with his back making a delicious curve...

"So you mean in general?" Cas rolls to his side to better look at Dean, and, when Dean nods and tells him he's bored, he frowns. "I don't know. We could..." Cas bites his lower lip. "Go to a museum?" Dean raises both eyebrows incredulously and shakes his head. He only goes to museums if it's to either kill a monster or to research how to kill one. "Art Galleries are out then too, I gather?" When Dean nods emphatically, the tip of Cas's tongue slowly slides over his upper lip, making it glisten. It's an unconscious gesture, Dean knows, but it makes him start to seriously consider just staying in and fucking again. Cas's mouth just has this effect on him. "Zoo?" Cas suggests, and Dean shakes his head absently, focused on the shape of Cas's lips. There's just something about them, Dean can't really describe it; just like Cas's eyes. His everything, really. It's weird.

Suddenly Cas's white teeth dig into his red lower lip; it makes Dean shiver and he almost doesn't hear what Cas says next. That's why he blinks and wonders if he heard wrong when he finally registers that Cas said something. "What?"

"The Stanford Memorial Church is a beautiful building," Cas says. As if that were any way to convince Dean to want to go there if he didn't.

Which, okay, he doesn't – what the hell, a church? The only reason he'd go would be if it were for the job, which _has_ happened before – but on the other hand… Cas is an angel. Even if he doesn't have a good relationship to his brothers and sisters at the moment, that doesn't change the fact that they're family. Dean should know. Even if Cas's family appear to be a particularly douchey bunch of dicks.

Still, wouldn't do to appear too whipped. Biting his own lower lip Dean looks at Cas through his eyelashes. "What are you going to do to convince me?"

Cas grins, white teeth gleaming, and moves in to press his mouth to Dean's.

A bit later the two of them head over to that church; Dean isn't all that enthusiastic but he can hardly complain. He still feels Cas's teeth on his skin and his dick in his ass. His whole body is aching deliciously. Cas certainly did a good job making Dean all pliant and indulgent.

For Dean's taste the church looks way too kitschy and excessive even from the outside; the facade is one giant painting with Jesus in the middle and some worshipful people and there's a couple of terribly tacky angels with babies in their arms. Dean gets embarrassed just looking at it but he doesn't say a word, especially not when Cas stops just in the doorway and wordlessly reaches out for Dean's hand.

Dean can't say it doesn't embarrass him; normally public displays don't make him uncomfortable but there's something desperate, something needy about the way Cas clings to Dean's hand. Dean doesn't want him to be like that where other people can see; like he's been cut open just because they're in a damn church. Next time, if Cas really needs to see a church from the inside, they're going to break in at night, where nobody will stare at Cas or narrow his eyes at them because they're two guys holding hands.

From the inside the church is even more gaudy than from the outside; all gold and painted people, Jesus, angels, some random guys or whatever. All Dean can do is stare and wonder why people would _do_ that. Cas at least doesn't even seem to notice; he's completely preoccupied. Dean tries to comprehend what it must be like, to look at those scenes with angels and know what and who they're about (if they are about anyone or anything, that is; for all Dean knows they might just be random, made-up scenes), but he can't really comprehend it. And so he just stays silent, returns the tight hold Cas has on his hand and lets Cas lead them further inside, over the long red carpet towards the front. There are other people milling about and some of them send them not-so-subtly criticizing looks, but most of them thankfully ignore them. There's no mass, thankfully; just people wandering around staring at the pompous art and gold carvings, some of them sitting in the pews, staring out the stained glass windows.

Dean looks around superficially but mostly he concentrates on Cas who right now is staring at the floor, putting one foot in front of the other with great care. Dean can't help but wonder if it's because it's so difficult for him to walk in or if it's because he's feeling detached from the body he's occupying, as he sometimes does. Maybe it's a bit of both, Dean thinks.

He squeezes Cas's hand and Cas returns the pressure, turns around to look at Dean. His face is serious, perhaps a bit sad, but otherwise calm; Dean is relieved about that. When they had entered Cas's face… Dean doesn't want anyone to see him like that, especially not these people who glare at them for being men and holding hands in a church.

"Wanna go sit down?" Dean suggests quietly when Cas doesn't say anything, just stares at him.

"I just like how this feels," Cas replies quietly. He glances around the church before he looks back at Dean.

"Okay." Dean can't say he even knows what Cas is talking about. "Let's go sit down, then."

Cas nods quietly and pulls Dean over to one of the empty pews. They quietly sit down and join the people staring at the walls or through stained glass windows. Dean is terribly bored but he'll be damned if he tells Cas as much.

Eventually though Cas seems to have enough and he and Dean leave again as quietly as they came. The whole time Cas didn't let go of Dean's hand once, he doesn't even when they leave the church. Dean doesn't feel all that uncomfortable with it anymore, now that the heartbreak isn't written plain on Cas's face.

They're supposed to be meeting up with Sam and Jess soon; it's Friday and Sam and Jess have the week-end off so they're going to spend the evening together. Things don't work out that way, though. Dean and Cas are just discussing whether to return to the motel or go ambush Sam early when Dean's mobile rings.

It's his mom. She says, "Dean. I've got him."

Dean stills, grip on Cas's hand tightening involuntarily. "The Yellow-Eyed Demon?" He doesn't notice Cas freezing next to him.

"I have one of his underlings," Mary says. "I've been trying to convince her to tell me where she is but she refuses to. I want you to come and help me."

Dean knows very well what "convince" means in this context. "Mom…" he starts, but Mary interrupts him. All she says is "Dean," but in a tone of voice Dean knows he can't disobey.

"Where?"

*

"It's our _dad_ ," Dean says. It's the second time he's said it but for some reason that doesn't seem to have the same connotations for Sam that it does for Dean. He shouldn't be surprised considering where Sam is right now and the life he's leading, but he is.

"I just can't leave Jess here just like that, with no explanation," Sam returns, sounding agitated.

And Dean's not having it anymore. "It's your decision," he says tightly. "I gotta go." He hangs up without waiting for Sam's reply.

There's silence in the Impala for a moment. Cas puts his hand on Dean's knee. He doesn't even need to say anything; Dean knows what he wants.

"A little over eighteen years ago, a demon came into our home. He went into Sam's nursery and dad caught him there. Mom… mom came in at one point later and dad was pinned to the ceiling, dead. There's this demon with yellow eyes, and he sets everything on fire. Mom takes Sam, gives him to me and tells me to run outside as fast as I can." Dean swallows and blinks rapidly so he won't see the fire again, his mom's panicked face.

"You've been chasing him ever since," Cas concludes quietly.

"Yeah," Dean says roughly, grip tightening on the steering wheel. Three hours, and they'll be in Malakoff Diggins State Historic Park where his mom is in some cabin off the trail, torturing some demon that will hopefully lead them to the Yellow-Eyed Demon.

"His name is Azazel," Cas tells him quietly.

Dean almost stands on his brakes in the middle of the highway. "What?" he says, amazed at how calm and controlled his voice is.

"The yellow-eyed demon," Cas elaborates. "His name is Azazel. He's the… King of Hell."

"Okay. Okay. Give me a sec." Dean breathes calmly and quietly and leaves the highway at the next exit, halting the car as soon as possible. Then he turns to Cas and says, "What?"

Cas returns his look calmly. "I didn't know you were looking for a yellow-eyed demon, you never said. There's only one. Azazel."

"The King of Hell."

Cas inclines his head. "He's one of the first demons Lucifer made."

"Okay." Dean closes his eyes and makes an effort to breathe calmly. When he thinks he has himself under control he opens his eyes again. "Tell me everything you know about him."

Cas shrugs. "Not much, to be honest. He's the King of Hell, which means he keeps the other demons somewhat organized. He's very strong. He's impervious to both salt barriers and holy water. He has strong mental powers."

"Do you know where he is?"

"I- _we_ can summon him." Cas looks at Dean.

"Fuck." Dean rubs his face with both hands. This is unbelievable; he wonders what would've happened if he had just mentioned the little tidbit with the yellow eyes earlier to Cas,

Now the question is, what to do now? Dean knows that he has to tell his mom about Cas, there's no way around it now. The demon will know immediately what Cas is, going from the reaction of that other demon, so there's no keeping it secret; Mary would definitely be suspicious if Cas kept out of the cabin with the demon inside without giving her a valid reason. A valid reason they don't have. Besides, she needs the information Cas has, sparse as it is.

Additionally, Cas could get information out of the demon much more easily, and they might not even need it anymore if they can truly summon Azazel. Hell, they maybe can even _kill_ Azazel.

This is a good thing, it's a brilliant thing, so Dean doesn't know why he doesn't feel like it - why he feels like he's standing at the top of a cliff, looking down.

"We-" Dean clears his throat and looks at Cas again. "We have to tell my mom."

"About Azazel?" Yes, of course about Azazel, but Cas knows very well what Dean really is talking about. That he refuses to acknowledge that makes it even more difficult for Dean.

"And about you," he adds quietly.

Cas's eyes slide off his face, his whole body tenses for a moment, and then he does the thing Dean hates; he turns completely blank.

Dean doesn't really know if that's why he says what he says next; he doesn't even know he's about to say it until he hears the words come out of his mouth. "Or we don't tell her about you."

Cas's head snaps up and he stares at Dean with wide eyes.

"I could just... leave you at a motel somewhere and tell her you couldn't come, or even that I didn't want you to come, or whatever. I'll get her to leave me alone with the demon she has, and then I'll ask it some questions, exorcise it, and tell her what I know about Azazel. Pretend the demon told me." Dean can hardly believe what he's suggesting here; he has never lied to his mom, not where this job was concerned. He would never even have dreamed of lying to her if it was about the demon who killed his father, her husband. But he can't stop thinking about how difficult it was for Cas to tell him, that it was the first time Cas ever even told anyone. It's Cas's secret, really, and as long as the information gets to Mary, does it matter if Dean lies to her about how he obtained it? This is why she wants him there anyway, to help her torture the demon.

"Dean." Cas's face turns soft, so soft Dean has to lower his gaze and look away, embarrassed. He doesn't look up when Cas moves towards him; only when Cas's hands cup his face and tilt it up so he can press their foreheads together. He can't really see much anyway, Cas is too close.

"So we'll do it like that?" Dean finally whispers after a long moment of silence.

"No." Cas shakes his head, lips brushing over Dean's cheek. "We'll tell her the truth, about me and about how you know about Azazel."

Dean pulls away to look at him properly. "Are you sure?"

Cas bites his lip for a second, but then he nods, looking both scared and determined. "I want to help you."

"Kill the King of Hell?" Dean raises one eyebrow, attempting for humor, but Cas doesn't react to the overture.

"To help avenge your father," he says earnestly. Then the corner of his mouth twitches. "Killing the King of Hell is just a pleasant side-effect."

Dean snorts and then he just has to pull Cas in and press a kiss to his mouth, squeeze him tightly as best as possible with the awkward position they're in.

For the next half an hour,Cas tells Dean everything he knows about Azazel and Dean in return tells him everything _he_ knows about Azazel, which admittedly isn't much. At one point Cas hesitates before saying, "There must be a reason why Azazel came into your brother's nursery."

That chills Dean for some reason. "He's a demon, does he need a reason?"

"He's the King of Hell, Dean," Cas returns carefully. "He certainly has better things to do than break into random people's homes to kill family fathers."

Dean suppresses the spike of anger he feels at that even though the way Cas says it pisses him off. "So you're saying my parents weren't random targets? That they somehow… provoked this?"

"Not knowingly," Cas says, voice perfectly calm, damn him. "But they must have done something to gain Azazel's attention. Perhaps… perhaps he wasn't even there for your father, but for your brother."

"Sam? Come on, Cas, he was just six months old. What the hell could the King of Hell want from a six months old baby?"

Cas's voice is serious. "That's what's worrying me."

Dean grits his teeth but he can't shake the thought off. They spend the rest of the car ride in silence.

Mary is waiting for them in front of a simple one room cabin. Dean pulls in next to her car and tries not to wonder how she found it and made sure they wouldn't be disturbed here.

Which, okay, is probably a ridiculous question, but Dean can't help it; he's terribly nervous. Cas had allowed him to tell his mom about the fact that Cas is actually an angel and even though Dean's had some weeks to think about it, he still has no idea how she'll react. He highly doubts she'll be all that elated, however.

They decided in the car - or rather, Dean decided - that Dean would do the talking; he knows what to say to her and how. Cas has never even met her.

Mary walks towards them as they get out of the car, Dean admittedly a bit slower than necessary. "Dean," she says, giving him a brief hug and nodding at Cas. "You must be Jimmy."

"Er, not so much," Dean says before Cas can even open his mouth.

Mary raises an eyebrow. "Don't tell me you ditched Jimmy for a new partner." Disapproval is vibrant in her voice; no wonder, because if Dean really had brought a stranger to the site where they're going to torture a demon into revealing to them what it knows about the demon that killed John Winchester... well, that would've been incredibly stupid at least. Also pretty ignorant, and Dean has never made a habit of handling this topic with nonchalance or dismissal. How could he?

"No." Dean nervously glances at Cas. "We gotta tell you something."

Her second eyebrow joins the first on her forehead. "Well? Out with it."

Dean shuffles on his feet a bit. "So." Taking a breath, he straightens his back, looks at his mom and says, " _Jimmy_ isn't human. He's an angel and his real name is Castiel."

Mary stares at him for a moment, and then she takes a step back and pulls out two guns, pointing them at Dean and Cas. "Christo."

"I'm not possessed, mom," Dean tells her but she just narrows her eyes.

Right.

Only Mary has made them go through all the tests she could imagine - and seriously, there had been _loads_ \- at gunpoint and they had come out of all of them cleanly she finally lowers her guns. She doesn't put them away but Dean guesses she's at least willing to suspend disbelief for now.

He glances at Cas, clears his throat and looks back at his mom. Her face is completely closed off, eyes hard like stones, and she's looking at Cas with a cold fury so strong it makes Dean very uncomfortable. "An angel," she spits.

Cas just looks at her calmly. "Yes." His voice is perfectly smooth as well but Dean can tell that he isn't as unaffected as he tries to make believe.

"So you exist."

Cas doesn't reply for a moment, probably deeming the question completely unnecessary, but when Mary doesn't say a thing and the silence stretches between them he shifts a little and says in his gravel voice, "Yes."

"And what do you do all day?" Mary says, and Dean gets a very, very bad feeling. He knows that tone of voice; it's the calm before the storm. He's proven right when a moment later she yells, "You can't be all that busy, considering the demons have free reign here on Earth!"

"We have been forbidden from stepping unto Earth," Cas tells her. His face is earnest but not pleading - he's not asking for forgiveness, and even while it makes Dean a little bitter that nobody came to save his dad in the last minute he knows it's not Cas's fault. Not his, personally, at least.

"You're here, obviously, so it can't be that strict a law?" Mary hisses venomously.

"Actually..." Cas's eyes flicker to the side for a moment. "I'm a fallen angel. I rebelled."

Mary starts to laugh. At first Dean thinks it's just her sarcastic laughter but she doesn't stop, wraps her arms around her middle and curls around them as if she's trying to hold herself together. And her laughing gets louder and more desperate until Dean's not sure if she's laughing or sobbing. It's probably a bit of both.

"Mom..." Dean takes a step towards her, throwing a helpless look at Cas who looks at her with regret and sympathy. He looks very much like an angel in that moment because both emotions are sort of distant, as if he feels them but isn't really involved personally.

Mary stops abruptly and whirls around, turning her back on them both; she puts a hand on her mouth. Her shoulders are shaking but Dean doesn't try to get to her anymore. He's learned his lesson on that front when he was four; it had been the first and last time he had seen her cry. She didn't let anybody comfort her, didn't _want_ anyone to even try.

They share an awkward glance. Dean and Cas share a glance, both really not knowing what to do. The shallow cuts they each made on their upper arms with iron and silver knives start to itch and Dean absently rubs his thumb over his, scratching a bit of the flaking blood off.

"Okay," Mary eventually says. Her voice is calm and cold and when she turns around her eyes are red but perfectly dry. "What does that mean, you rebelled?"

"I disobeyed orders," Cas tells her after a moment of hesitation. "As a result I was to be executed. I refused and fled."

She nods, just accepting that, and then she turns to Dean. Her eyes are cold as she demands, "How long have you known?"

Dean throws Cas a look. "About two months."

For a moment she looks absolutely furious, but she smooths her face out. She does cross her arms and her voice is biting when she fires off her next question. "Why are you telling me this now? I assume you weren't actually planning on doing so for a while yet."

Dean shuffles a bit. He's surprised at himself because he does feel guilty, but certainly not as much as he expected. He doesn't know why and it makes him uncomfortable, so he ignores it for now. Instead he throws another glance at Cas. "He can kill demons, mom."

Mary throws Cas a glance as well. "I certainly hope so," she says coldly. "He's gotta be useful for something, doesn't he."

Cas doesn't react outwardly but Dean just knows that that remark got to him. That makes Dean furious all of a sudden; he reigns the emotion in but he probably doesn't manage keeping it out of his voice completely when he says, "He knows who the Yellow Eyed Demon is. He knows how to summon him."

Mary's eyes grow wide and she instantly focuses completely on Cas. "Do you." It's a demand, not a question.

"His name is Azazel, he's the King of Hell," Cas informs her, voice completely inflectionless. Yes, she hurt him. Dean balls his fist, fingernails digging into his palms. He feels helpless, doesn't know what to do.

"That's just wonderful," Mary says nastily, glaring at both Dean and Cas. "I suppose you didn't consider that important information, did you?"

"For fuck's sake, mom," it breaks out of Dean. "Until two hours ago he didn't even know who I was talking about; it's not like I gave him the family history the first day we met."

"Don't use that tone on me, Dean," his mom orders. She closes her eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath. Then she opens them again, focusing on Cas. "Tell me everything you know about this Azazel."

Cas does, but he keeps his speculations as to what Azazel was doing in Sam's nursery all those years ago, why he picked Sam of all children, to himself. Dean is eternally grateful for that; his mom certainly is not in any mood to hear a reasonable question, especially not, it looks like, from an angel. When she is a bit calmer they can maybe talk about it more objectively. In a year or so. Maybe five.

Once Cas is finished Mary looks away for a moment; Dean knows that look. She's processing information, trying to make a plan. For a moment none of them moves, then Mary straightens. "Okay, great. I guess we can go exorcise that demon, then." She turns her back on them and makes as if to head back into the cabin.

"Mom, wait," Dean calls. "What's the plan?"

She half turns. "Why, summon this Azazel and kill him, of course."

"That's suicide," Cas says flatly, and Dean inwardly facepalms. This is not how you get Mary Winchester to do what you want. She's stubborn as a mule and if you try to give her orders, she just continues on her chosen path with even more determination. Sam got that from her, Dean reckons.

"Excuse me," Mary says, voice icy. "But I believe this is family business, and as such, none of yours. You can leave."

Okay, that's enough. "Mom, seriously. That demon is the _King of Hell_. I think we might need a bit more planning if we want to succeed in getting rid of him, don't you?"

Mary narrows her eyes but before she can reply, Cas involves himself again. "If you try to do it now, completely unprepared, you're at best going to fail and warn him that you're on to him. At worst he's going to kill you and everyone you ever came into contact with." And isn't that a nice idea.

"We know who he is now, mom," Dean coaxes. "We can even summon him. I'm not saying to do it next month, I'm just saying, give it some time to prepare. We want to make sure the plan is watertight so that he can't escape, right? And Cas said that demon is strong."

"Very strong," Cas adds. "He's the King of Hell. Salt barriers, holy water and hallowed ground have no effect on him."

"Fine," Mary grits, looking like she just bit into a lemon. "Twenty-four hours. No more."

Cas's eyes flicker to Dean, who nods, knowing they won't get more out of her. "Twenty-four hours."

"Great." She crosses her arms and turns around to them. "So, what do you want to do with that demon?"

"What's its name?" Cas inquires.

Mary shrugs. "Damn bitch wouldn't even tell me that much." She looks pretty pissed off about that.

"Okay." Dean rubs his hands together, looking at Cas. "Cas here can get her to talk, can't you, Cas?"

Cas just looks at him for a moment, giving Dean the feeling he said something wrong; he has no idea what, though, and it's gone too quickly for him to try to figure out. "Yes," Cas says.

"Is that your name?" Mary asks. "Cas?"

"My name is Castiel," Cas tells her. They start walking towards the cabin.

"So Jimmy is your cover?"

"Something like that," Dean interjects before Cas can reply and explain to her what's really going on; Dean has the feeling that his mom will only accept so much with this level of relative calm. If they tell her that it's not really Cas's body, that it's only his meatsuit of sorts, she'll probably go all ballistic and suspicious on them again and demand the full story. Dean doesn't think Cas is ready to lay himself open in front of her like that yet.

Mary throws Dean a glance but doesn't say anything, just walks up the three steps to the cabin and opens the door.

Inside, there's a table right next to the door on which a couple of instruments are laid out; holy water, other religious paraphernalia, some knives. In the middle of the room is a chair, bolted to the floor in the middle of a devil's trap. There's a couple of sigils on the walls preventing them from being discovered by anyone who is looking for them or magic. Tied on the chair is a woman with red, curly hair; she looks tiny and fragile but Dean doesn't make the mistake of considering her any less dangerous for that. It's just the meatsuit for a demon. This particular one makes a point out of looking bored. "Back-up?" she sneers at Mary, who smirks.

Dean steps aside, making room for Cas, and the demon freezes up completely for a second when Cas enters. Then she hisses like a vampire during bloodlust. "You're not an angel."

Cas calmly closes the door after himself and then takes another step into the room. "Wrong," he says mildly.

She laughs nastily. "Look at you, you're all diminished. You fell, didn't you? Pathetic."

Cas doesn't say a word, doesn't move a muscle, but something changes; something about his aura, for lack of better word. Even Dean feels a little chilled and he doesn't even see Cas's face. He quickly glances at his mom and finds her standing aside, arms crossed, frowning and completely focused on Cas. Dean doesn't like her expression at all.

The demon, Dean finds when he looks at her, makes a concerted effort not to appear afraid but her wide eyes and elevated breath give her away.

"Hello Alice," Cas says, voice almost friendly. "Does your father know where you are?"

"Why should I tell you anything?" she spits, clearly terrified. "You're going to kill me anyway!"

Cas nods. "Naturally. However, we both know that there is a great difference between dying and dying in unbearable pain."

She hisses again. "You wouldn't dare! My daddy will kill you!"

"You see, we're somewhat hoping to see him soon," Cas says. "So it would actually be quite convenient if he came to find us; we wouldn't even have to go through the trouble of summoning him." Dean shudders at the casual cruelty in his tone; he has never experienced Cas like this. He's not afraid, though; it's probably not very healthy but Dean quite likes it, the way Cas manages to terrify a demon with just a few words when days of torture by his mom didn't even get her a name.

The demon just stares at Cas in helpless, terrified fury; Cas gives her a moment, stretching lazily, arms over his head. "Think about it," he advices conversationally. He rolls his head, tilting it from his left shoulder to his right. Then he flexes his fingers and takes a step towards her. "Time's up," he says coolly. "Are you going to answer our questions or would you like for me to start?"

Unsurprisingly, she doesn't choose unbearable pain.

 

*

Azazel's last location was, his daughter tells them, Peoria, Arizona. She says she has no idea if he's still there; Dean is tempted to call bullshit but Cas seems to believe her and he is the expert, after all.

The demon – Alice, apparently – doesn't know all that much about Azazel's plans, just that he's "on to something big". She does tell them, though, that the Winchesters hadn't been the first nor the last family Azazel had visited, though she doesn't know what he specifically wants there. Apparently, though, a week prior to an attack by Azazel the area he's going to visit upon shows a combination of electrical storms, cattle death and temperature fluctuations. Alice seems to like that a lot, going by the fervent expression in her eyes, and it makes Dean shudder – that she considers the demon her father and looks like that when talking about him. Disgusting.

There's not much else Alice can tell them, Dean doesn't think, but his mom doesn't agree, it appears, for she asks, "How can he be killed?"

Alice snorts and glances at Cas. "What, an angel not enough of a weapon for you?"

Cas glances at Mary and then, for some reason, looks at Dean. He seems to be looking for something but Dean has no idea for what, so all he can do is shrug and frown in confusion. Cas turns away again, looks at Mary and says, "The Colt."

Mary raises both eyebrows. "Samuel Colt's colt?"

With a nod, Cas turns back to Alice. "Do you have any more questions?" he addresses Mary.

"No, you can get rid of that," Mary replies absently, already somewhere different with her thoughts, her face calculating. She does look up, though, when Cas steps into the Devil's Trap and puts his hand to the forehead of the hyperventilating demon. Dean, instead of watching Cas kill the demon, watches his mom watch him; she still wears that calculating expression but now it's clearly aimed at Cas. Dean doesn't like it at all.

Troubled and not knowing what's going on or what to do about it, Dean looks at Cas as well; the flash from the demon's eyes and mouth is just fading, her scream dying out. Cas gently catches her head and puts it to rest on her shoulder, and then he starts to untie her.

"What are you doing?" Mary asks sharply.

"I don't want her to be tied up when she wakes up," Cas replies, not looking at her.

"I thought you killed her." Mary's voice is pointed and angry and Dean wishes she'd just stop, but really, what had he imagined she'd do? Be a little angry but then open her arms to accept Cas into the family? Right. Dream on.

Now, Cas does glance at Mary. "I exterminated the demon, not the body."

"Where are the wounds?" Dean asks before either of them can say anything else. All he needs is for his mom and Cas to get into a fight.

"I healed them," Cas says. "There were not many, though. She only moved in a few weeks ago."

"What about that guy Charlie was occupying?" Dean walks over to where Cas is having some difficulties keeping the girl on the chair while untying her legs; Dean takes hold of the girl's shoulders to keep her from sliding to the side and cracking her head open.

"Tony Sonitol made a deal with a crossroads demon. He'd get everything he wanted for three years, and in turn the demon could do with him afterwards whatever it wanted. It wanted to move into his body."

"What kind of deal is that?" Dean asks incredulously. "Don't those deals usually last ten years? And since when do crossroad demons get new meatsuits from those they made deals with?"

"It happens." Cas rises and looks around with a frown. "Lilith must have sanctioned his actions, though. Is there any place where we can put her?" he addresses Mary.

"She'll wake up as a human?" Mary asks for clarification.

"A severely traumatized one, but yes, entirely human."

"Dean, get a blanket from my car."

Dean hesitates, glancing at Cas, but the angel's face is totally blank. All he does is reach out to take hold of the girl's shoulders so Dean can let go.

With a sigh Dean does as he's told, knowing full well that Mary will have some words with Cas as soon as he's out of the way. He makes a point of running his hand across the small of Cas's back as he walks by, maybe for reassurance, though Dean wouldn't be able to tell whom he's trying to reassure if asked; himself or Cas?

He hurries to his mom's car to get the blanket, and after some hesitation also gets a bag of chips and a bottle of water for the girl. She might be hungry once she wakes up.

When he gets back to the cabin Mary and Cas are silent, but there's a tension in the air; Dean just knows something went on while he was away, just like he suspected. He doesn't bother to ask; neither will tell him in the presence of the other and Mary probably not at all.

The girl is still unconscious; Dean spreads the blanket out on the floor and Cas picks her body up like it weighs nothing before putting her down on it.

"So, that Tony guy deserved it for making a deal?" Dean eventually asks after they've stood there staring down at the girl long enough for it to get awkward, especially since his mother just stands there, arms crossed and staring at them.

"No. He deserved it for the things he did in those three years." Cas glances at Dean, face cool. "He had denied himself the things he wanted all his life, knowing there would be consequences. When he found out he had stomach cancer, he decided to make the deal and give in to his urges."

Dean doesn't think he really wants to know, not with the expression on Cas's face, so it must be morbid curiosity and probably also a bit of masochism that makes him ask, "What urges?"

Cas's face twists and he looks away. "They involved children. And knives."

Dean grimaces, feeling sick. "Okay. I totally see your point. He deserved to die."

"He didn't die," Cas says. "He woke up in a room containing three people who had been slaughtered in a black magic ritual. Right now he's likely in prison, waiting to be sentenced to death."

Well, Dean can live with that too. Sounds like more of a punishment too, having to wait to die for years before you actually get to do it.

"Alright, then," Mary interrupts loudly. "I'll go get the Colt."

Dean turns to look at his mom. "Where is it?"

"Manning, Colorado," she replies.

"It'll take you at least a day to get there." Dean frowns. "Should we meet up in Peoria?"

"Fine," Mary bites, sends Cas one last narrow-eyed glare and then is on her way.

"What the hell did she say to you?" Dean demands as soon as the sound of his mother's car engine fades into the distance.

Cas glances at Dean, then turns away and walks to the cabin's single door. With a frown Dean follows him and they both sit down on the stairs.

"She informed me that just because I'm an angel doesn't mean I'm any better than the other creatures," Cas relays, voice inflectionless. "She said that if I slip up even once, she'll personally hunt me down and kill me."

Dean makes an aggravated noise and balls his fist. He should've expected it, really. Why would Mary be happy that angels exist? She would've been happier thinking that they didn't than knowing that they did and didn't give a fuck.

Still, that's no reason to take it out on Cas, not like that. Making a conscious effort to relax, Dean slings an arm around Cas's stiff shoulders and pulls him a little closer. Cas doesn't relax into him, not quite, but some of the hardness in his muscles fades. "She'll get around eventually," Dean murmurs, even though he really has no idea if she actually will.

Cas nods slowly, and then he asks, voice a little small, "You don't consider me a creature, do you?"

"Well, you _are_ a creature," Dean says hesitantly, then hastily adds, "In the way that you're not human. But you aren't a creature if being a creature means being a monster." Cas lowers his head a little and nods almost imperceptibly. Dean tightens his grip around his shoulders, puts his mouth in Cas's hair. "You're not a tool, Cas," he says quietly. It had really bothered him when his mom had said that, the way she had been acting like Cas was nothing more but a weapon, and one that could turn against them any moment at that. "Just because you're not human doesn't mean you're not a person."

Cas nods again, even more carefully than before, and then he leans a bit more into Dean.

They stay like that for a while, not saying a word, until Dean's mobile rings, startling them both.

It's Sam. "I told Jess," is the first thing he says to Dean. He sounds a little breathless.

"What?" For a moment Dean has no idea what his brother is talking about, but then he gets it. "About hunting?"

"Yeah."

"Okay, so… what did she say?"

"That she would like to think I'm crazy, but she knows me and would like to think she would've noticed a little earlier if I were. Also, that it explains my crazy family and their nomadic tendencies. Of course we could all be collectively crazy." Sam is silent for a moment. "She said she doesn't want to believe me because the world would be so much easier if she doesn't, but that she loves me too much to just mark me down as mad and never speak to me again."

"Okay." Dean glances at Cas; he doesn't really know why, he just wants to look at him for some reason. Cas is looking at him as well, blue eyes earnest and clear, skin sort of golden from the light that falls on him from the cabin. When Dean's eyes meet his he does the thing where he smiles without his mouth. Dean smiles back. "What now?" he asks Sam.

"Now…" Sam hesitates. "She said she needs a couple of days to think about it. I want to… I want to be there, with you. Did you find out anything about The Demon yet?"

Dean looks up to where the moon is rising behind the trees, almost full, illuminating the Impala and the small clearing the cottage is set in. "You could say that," he says roughly. "His name is Azazel, and he's the King of Hell."

Sam is quiet for one shocked moment. "Seriously?"

"Yeah." Dean glances at Cas again. "Listen, we have to go to Peoria, Arizona, we can pick you up on the way and tell you everything."

"We have to take care of Angelina first," Cas reminds him.

For a moment Dean has no idea who the fuck Cas is talking about, but then he figures out that it must be the girl. "Right. Let's say tomorrow around lunchtime?" Dean asks Sam, who agrees.

"Where's she from?" Dean addresses Cas as soon as he and his brother have hung up.

"Sacramento," Cas replies. "We have to bring her home to her family and explain what happened. They'll think she's crazy otherwise."

"Is that what you usually do? After you've killed a demon, I mean."

"Yes."

They both turn around to glance at the girl who is still lying on the blanket, apparently unconscious. Dean shudders; he doesn't want to think about what she must have gone through over the past weeks. She had likely not even known that demons existed, and then to get possessed by one and probably do unspeakable things… yeah, she'd need somebody believing her.

"Okay. Let's go get some food."

They can't drive away, of course; they need to stay here in case the girl wakes up. They also can't split up because they might need the car in case she's entirely batshit and they need to drive her to a hospital or something. But Dean has some snack stuff in the Impala and so they eat some chips and some chocolate. Dean saves some of the latter though, because he figures the girl – Angelina – might want some. Girls like chocolate when they're unhappy, Dean has learned.

They're still nibbling, sharing the last of the Doritos when there's suddenly a screech from within the cabin. Dropping the bag Dean bolts for the door but Cas is quicker, taking the four steps in two and vanishing in the cabin. There's another screech and Dean is at the door; the girl is in a corner, looking absolutely panicked. Cas has token hold of both her wrists, and he's talking to her quietly, soothingly. "I exorcised it, do you remember?" he's saying. "It's gone. I took it away. It's gone. It won't come back."

The girl is staring at him with wide, panicked eyes, breathing rapidly, and for the longest time, Cas's words don't seem to get through to her. Dean hovers awkwardly in the doorway, not knowing what to do; his presence might just scare her further so he tries to stay out of her line of vision for now.

Suddenly, as if someone flicked a switch, all the tension leaves her body, and she slumps. Cas immediately lets go of her wrists and she curls up into a tight ball, her arms wrapped around her middle and her face buried in her knees as she starts to sob desperately.

Dean and Cas share a helpless look. Seriously, Dean thinks, Cas has done this before. Shouldn't he have a little more skill at dealing with seriously traumatized survivors of demon possession?

He doesn't, though, obviously. Dean has to nod twice towards the bottle of water and bag of chips hey put next to the blanket for Cas to get it. Then he does, though, and with a relieved look goes to get them.

"Here," he murmurs quietly. "You should drink something." The girl doesn't react, just continues to sob into her knees, and after a moment of awkward hovering Cas puts the bag and bottle next to her. He throws another helpless look towards Dean but Dean doesn't have to nod him towards the blanket this time; Cas gets it all on his own. After he has wrapped the blanket around the girl, who doesn't even twitch, he takes a step back, and another, before he turns around to face Dean.

"What now?" Dean murmurs quietly, glancing at the girl. "We can't just leave her there when she's like that, can we?" It seems wrong, somehow. They should do something, but Dean has no idea what. Hugging seems out of question, and not just because neither Dean nor Cas are much of the hugging type; Dean just figures that she wouldn't want to be touched after what she went through. He has seen on TV once how a girl who got raped had panicked when people touched her, and demon possession must be a lot like rape, mustn't it? Not like Dean has any idea, but still. Horrible experience.

"Let's give her some time to grieve and come to grasp with what has happened," Cas replies just as quietly. He lowers his voice even more when he says, "Pretend you know nothing about her and let her believe that what I did was exorcism. Don't tell her the truth. I can't afford having them know what I am."

Dean rolls his eyes; as if he hadn't already figured as much. "I know, Cas," he says exasperatedly. "Let's get her some chocolate, okay?"

Cas nods and makes as if to follow Dean out of the cabin, but a strangled noise from the girl makes them both stop in their tracks. The girl is peering up from her knees, looking absolutely panicked again. "Don't leave me?" she gasps, and great, that looks a lot like she's hyperventilating.

"Hey, hey, breathe," Dean says, which is a pretty stupid thing to say, because that's just what she's doing - in abundance.

"Okay, no, don't breathe. Nobody's leaving. We just thought you might like some chocolate." The girl doesn't react, just stares at him with wide eyes, mouth open as she gasps desperately for air.

"Okay." Dean takes a couple of steps towards her but freezes when she twitches when he's about six feet away from her. Crouching, Dean catches the girl's eyes. "Breathe with me, okay? In, hold, out." He knows this; Sam used to get attacks of claustrophobia for a couple of months when he was thirteen. At first she doesn't manage to breathe with him, but Dean just keeps breathing loudly, slowly, and eventually she's breathing along. "Good," Dean murmurs soothingly. "Good. You're safe. The demon's gone. It won't come back."

She just looks at him for a moment, and then her face distorts as tears start running down her wet cheeks again. "It- it-", she wails, not managing to get any further in what she's trying to say.

"I know," Dean soothes, even though he does nothing of the kind. "It was terrible. But it's gone. We'll show you how to make sure this will never happen to you again, alright?"

She nods quickly.

"Good. Now, do you see that bottle of water? You should drink something."

Without taking her eyes off Dean she blindly gropes for the bottle of water until she finds it. Her hands are trembling wildly and her breathing picks up speed again; Dean starts again with the "in, hold, out" routine, and she manages not to start hyperventilating this time. She spills some water over herself but doesn't seem to notice once the bottle is at her mouth; it's like she only now realizes how thirsty she is and starts drinking greedily.

"Hey, slow down," Dean cautions. "You don't want to get sick." He doesn't remind her that it must've been a while since she last ate or drank something and that her body probably needs to get used to it again; it's not like she doesn't know. And if she's not thinking about that right now, there's no need to remind her.

Reluctantly she puts the bottle down, encountering the bag of chips as she sets it on the floor next to her. After a quick glance at Dean she greedily rips it open and starts to stuff herself with chips, only slowing down when Dean tells her to. The last thing they need is for her to get sick, especially in the Impala.

"Hey," Cas's voice sounds quietly from behind him. Dean turns his head to find Cas crouching next to him, holding out a bar of chocolate. He must have returned to the car to get it; Dean didn't even notice, he was so focused on the girl.

Cas holds the bar out and after a moment of hesitation the girl reaches for it. When she finds that it's impossible to bridge the space between them like that she moves close enough to them to take the chocolate bar. "Like Harry Potter," she says quietly and gives a wet laugh. Tears are running down her cheeks again but at least she isn't hyperventilating anymore.

"What?" Cas says.

Dean turns his head to look at him. "That werewolf professor who likes to ply young kids with chocolate? Which is seriously rapey if you ask me." When Cas just looks blank, Dean rolls his eyes. "You haven't read Harry Potter?"

"Professor Lupin," the girl says quietly. "The werewolf's name is Professor Lupin."

Cas purses his lips. "I'm not familiar with Harry Potter."

Right. Another thing on the list of things Dean has to show Cas. Most of the time Cas is familiar enough with pop culture that Dean forgets that he's only been on Earth for about eighteen years, eight of which don't count and half of the rest he spent either trying to make himself disappear somehow or in mental hospitals. Neither probably lends itself well to educating one in important things like Lord of the Rings or Harry Potter.

"Are werewolves real?" the girl asks shakily.

Dean and Cas look at her. Dean is about to reply when Cas puts a hand on his knee and says gently, "You don't want to know."

She looks at Cas for a moment, and then she nods quietly. "No, I don't." Her gaze turns faraway for a moment and Dean doesn't want to know what she's thinking about. What she's remembering. Maybe this truly is a case where someone is better off not knowing more, though Dean's not really sure he truly believes it.

"What's your name?" Cas asks eventually, pulling her out of her thoughts.

"Angeline," she replies after a short moment. "Angeline Berger. What's yours?"

"I'm James Novak, and this is Dean Winchester."

Right. Dean has to remember not to slip up and call Cas anything else than Jimmy while the girl is around.

"Do you do this often?" Angeline asks.

"Exorcising demons? Whenever it is necessary," Cas replies.

She nods jerkily, looking at the floor. "Is she truly gone?" she asks very quietly.

"Yes. She'll never come back." Cas's voice is so full of conviction that she just has to believe him; Dean wonders how he does that. It can't be some angel mojo, Dean can tell when Cas is using his supernatural powers like he did earlier with the demon; he just feels different somehow, it's really difficult to describe. But this isn't it.

Angeline stares at him for a moment, then she takes a shaky breath and starts crying again, but at least now it's not the desperate sobbing kind. Dean and Cas share a look, and Cas inches a bit closer to the girl. "We'll drive you home, if you want."

It's the wrong thing to say. Her eyes widen and suddenly she's sobbing again. "I've been gone for months! My parents don't even know where I am! They must hate me!"

"I'm sure they don't," Cas says gently, looking helpless. "We'll come with you and explain the situation for you."

"They'll never believe you," she sobs.

"They will," Cas says. Dean knows he'll try to make them with his earnest face and earnest eyes, but that's not really how people work. He wonders how Cas handled this sort of situation before; maybe this is the first time he freed a person this young?

Dean hopes so, even if it makes him feel bad. But the girl looks like she's maybe fifteen, sixteen at the most; the idea of someone younger being possessed makes him feel physically sick.

"We'll call a friend of ours who will find someone for you to talk to," Cas is saying to Angeline.

"What?" She looks at him with confusion, eyes still brimming with tears.

"A therapist," Cas clarifies. "Someone who will know that you're not crazy. Someone who can help you deal with this. If you want to, you can meet other people this happened to, talk to them."

She quickly shakes her head. "I don't want to talk to anyone!"

Cas sighs. "That's fine too. You can do whatever you want. But we'll show you how to protect yourself, and we'll leave a therapist's telephone number for you so you can call them in case you ever want to."

Cas continues to calm her down, assuring her again and again that they'll make sure her parents believe her and them, that nobody will think she's crazy. It takes a while until she stops crying and even longer before she's ready to get up and drive to her parents'. Two hours and a very awkward drive during which Angeline kept breaking into tears randomly (Dean figures she has every right to be devastated so he tries not to be annoyed; he mostly manages but it still makes him feel like a dick that he even has to try), they pull up in front of her parents' house. It's two am in the morning and the whole house is dark; Angeline quietly tries to suggest they leave it until morning, but Cas won't let her run away.

"They'll be very relieved to see you again," he says. Angeline doesn't look like she believes it; in fact she starts crying again, but she doesn't protest when Cas urges her out of the car. Dean hesitates for a moment, not sure if he wants to go with them, but he can't really stay in the car for however long it'll take and besides, he wants to be there for Cas as reinforcement. It won't look good either way, two dudes bringing a maybe not even legal teenager home after she's been missing for months, but at least Cas won't have to handle the situation alone.

It takes a long time for somebody to open the door; Angeline keeps trying to convince them to turn around and wait until morning but Cas keeps stoically ringing the doorbell until it finally opens to a disheveled, wary man in a dressing gown. In the background Dean thinks he can see someone hovering with a baseball bat, which he figures is what he'd do if somebody were to ring his doorbell at this time of night. If he had a doorbell, that is. Or a baseball bat.

All caution seems to zap out of the man when his eyes fall on his daughter. "Angie?" he cries; Angeline cries "Daddy!" and suddenly they're lying in each other's arms and crying. From behind the man a woman cries out as well; she drops the baseball bat and wraps her arms around her husband and child.

Dean and Cas shift and share an awkward look; this is obviously a very private moment and Dean doesn't exactly feel comfortable being witness to it. Especially not in the middle of the night on a doorstep.

After they've given the family a couple of minutes,Dean clears his throat. "How about we move this inside?" he suggests.

The man looks up as if he had completely forgotten they were there, and suddenly he stiffens. "Who are you?" he demands, bristling with hostility, pushing his wife and daughter behind him into the house.

"Daddy, no!" Angeline cries out behind him. "They saved me!"

The man doesn't react, which Dean figures is either smart or dickish - probably a bit of both.

"I'm Dean Winchester and this is Jimmy Novak," Dean introduces them, putting on his most earnest, innocent face. Next to him Cas is doing the same; Dean doesn't need to check to know, they have this down to a pat. "We didn't hurt your daughter. We only met her today for the first time, and we've brought her home to you. But we need to talk to you about what happened to her."

"I'm calling the police," the man says firmly, eyes still narrowed.

"No, Daddy! They'll never believe me, they'll call me crazy!" Angeline starts to sob; the man looks alarmed but doesn't look away from the men he considers a threat. Behind him his wife tries to console Angeline, but she twists out of her mother's grasp and pushes past her father, standing in front of Dean and Cas and putting her hands on her hips. "They helped me!" she says loudly, obviously distraught still with tears brimming in her eyes, but her voice is firm. Dean can't help but respect her in that moment; she apparently isn't so overcome by her trauma that she isn't able to stand up for herself (or in this case, Dean and Cas) anymore. Good for her and especially good for them.

Her father's eyes flicker between her and the hunters. It's obvious he doesn't know what to believe but eventually he silently steps aside. "Very well," he says. "I'll listen to whatever you have to say. But the moment you make a wrong move, I'm calling the police."

Dean thinks that if they were serial killers or monsters that wouldn't be of much help; the whole family would be dead before the police even made it there, if they managed to finish the call to begin with. But he doesn't say so.

They're led into a living room; the man quietly gestures towards a sofa and Dean and Cas obediently sit down. The man pointedly takes the phone before he takes a seat in the armchair while the wife sits down on the two-seater with her daughter wrapped firmly in her arms.

"What happened?" the mother finally speaks up when nobody says anything for a moment. "Where were you, Angie?"

Angeline lowers her gaze. "I..." Helplessly, she looks up and at Cas, who shifts in his seat and finally leans forward to look at her father. He doesn't say anything, though, just waits until Angeline has gathered her courage and says, "I was possessed by a demon."

Her parents don't react for a moment but the hostility and suspicion in the father's eyes increase exponentially as he stares at Cas and Dean.

"It's true," Cas says quietly; Dean just nods.

"It happened when I was at the shopping mall," Angeline says, and it seems that now that she's managed to say it for the first time, the story just spills out of her. "I was trying on this shirt; I knew it was too expensive but I wanted to see what I looked like in it." She turns silent for a moment, gaze focused on something they can't see. "And suddenly, there's this dark, black cloud in the changing room, and I open my mouth to scream and it moves into my mouth and into me, and... and suddenly I couldn't move anymore. I was moving, getting out of the changing room, but it wasn't _me_ moving, it was somebody else. I didn't... I didn't understand, for a while. She..." She shudders. "She talked to me, she said... so many disgusting things, and I was so scared, but she... she _liked_ it. She did some of the things just to torture me. Others… others she did because she just liked it." Angeline takes a shaky breath, doesn't look at anyone in the room. "I... eventually, this woman came, and then James and Dean came, and they exorcised the demon. It's gone now."

"That was my mother," Dean says just to fill the silence when nobody says anything and Angeline seems to wilt a little.

Angeline looks up and at him with hopeful eyes. "Your mother taught you to do this?"

"Yeah." Dean shrugs. "Been hunters for generations, our family."

"When you say hunter," Angeline's father says carefully, "You don't mean deer, do you? You're trying to say you hunt demons?"

"Yes," Dean confirms.

"This is insane," the man spits. He turns to his daughter. "Angeline, are you sure these people didn't... do anything to you?"

"If we would have, we hardly would've brought her back, would we?" Dean interrupts sharply.

Angeline and her father both throw him a very similar look and then Angeline says, trying to sound strong even with her lower lip wobbling a little, "I'm telling the truth, dad. Nobody... did anything to me. At least not like that."

"So you were possessed," her mother speaks up for the first time. She sounds like she doesn't really believe what she's saying but at least she seems to be more willing to suspend disbelief than her husband apparently is.

"Yes," Angeline confirms. She looks up at her mother with wide eyes. "I'm sorry you were worried!" she suddenly wails and throws herself into her mother's arms. Mother and daughter both start crying and clinging to each other. Dean shifts awkwardly and looks away to find Cas and Angeline's father in a staring contest. Cas wins, naturally; Dean's used to it by now but sometimes Cas just has a staring problem. He could outstare a cat.

"How can I believe you?" Angeline's father finally whispers, gaze dropping to the ground. He suddenly looks exhausted.

"You don't have to believe me," Cas replies quietly. "But you should believe your daughter. You didn't think she ran away, did you?"

He shakes his head after a moment of hesitation. "We didn't want to. She isn't the type, she seemed happy... but the police wouldn't do anything; they had the security tapes of her just leaving the mall, under no apparent duress, and they said she must have run away for some reason."

"She didn't run away," Dean says firmly, leaning in. "She was kidnapped, even if nobody could see it."

Angeline's father shakes his head. "That's insane," he mumbles, putting his head in his hands.

Her mother, though, seems to have more control over herself. "Is that really true, baby?" she asks. "Those men didn't tell you to say that?"

"No!" Angeline sounds both hurt and angry. "I'm telling the truth! That's what happened! You saw the security cameras, nobody kidnapped me!"

"And you really didn't run away?" her father asks, looking up.

Angeline pulls out of her mother's arms to stare at him. "No," she says finally, sounding a little numb. Then she turns to Cas. "I told you they wouldn't believe me," she says with her voice close to breaking. Her mother immediately tries to assure her that she believes her but her voice is shaky and she doesn't sound like she even believes she'll believe her daughter eventually. To her credit, she does sound pretty broken up about it.

That doesn't help Angeline much, though, who just keeps staring at Cas, looking sort of numb.

Cas returns her look. "I'm sorry," he says gently. Then he glances at Dean. "Would you like for us to tell you how to make sure that never happens again?"

Angeline nods, and Cas reaches into his pocket for a notebook and pen. "You have to get a tattoo just like this," he says, drawing a pentagram in a circle of flames, taking great care to make everything absolutely correct down to the last flame. Once he's done he adds two telephone numbers to the bottom of the page before he rips it out of his notebook and hands it over to her. "It prevents demon possession," he tells her. "And it needs to be exactly like this. Those telephone numbers are mine and a friend's, Bobby Singer. He can refer you to a therapist, or to a self-help group of other people who have gone through a similar experience."

Angeline takes the page and nods silently. For a moment she just looks down at it, then she asks, "Do you have tattoos like this?" Her dad says something about how his daughter will have no tattoos but they ignore him.

"Yes," Cas says. It's actually the truth; he does have an anti-demon possession tattoo on the inside of his thigh, though Dean doesn't really understand why. If the body is already occupied, by an angel no less, shouldn't it be sort of impossible for a demon to get in? But maybe it was done as a protection for Jimmy. Dean himself has the tattoo as well, had gotten a permanent one as soon as he had grown enough that his mom figured the rest of his growing wouldn't distort the tattoo anymore. His is on his chest, under his collar bone, though, where Sam's is, and their mom's. A place where you could both see it easily to check that it's still intact and also a place where you don't get injured often. Though in hindsight, Dean figures that Cas's location is even better on that front.

Angeline swallows and nods. "Okay," she says quietly. "Okay."

"Alright, that's it," her father suddenly cuts in loudly. He turns to Dean and Cas. "You two will leave my house immediately, or I will call the police."

Dean raises both hands mockingly. "Hold your horses, we're going." He and Cas get up and head for the door. Angeline is sitting on the sofa next to her mother, who is weeping quietly into her folded hands. She's staring at the page Cas gave her likes it's going to save her. In a way, it probably will - hopefully.

A moment later, Dean and Cas are out of the house and in the Impala.

"Fuck," Dean curses and rubs his face with both hands. "I'm so fucking exhausted. Let's find a motel with a bed and crash."

Cas looks at him for a moment and then he suddenly reaches out, cups Dean's face and pulls him close even as he leans towards him, catching his mouth in a passionate kiss. "Let's find a motel with a bed," he suggests when he finally pulls away, leaving them both breathless. His eyes are dark and his lips are swollen from where Dean bit him.

Dean grins, feeling not all that tired anymore. "Yeah," he agrees roughly and starts the car.

*

Just a few hours of sleep later – though it was totally worth it sacrificing another hour for Cas to nail him into the mattress – Dean and Cas are on the road again, heading for Palo Alto to pick Sam up. They've been driving for just a few minutes when Cas shifts and says, "I think we should call Anna."

"What?" Dean furrows his brows. "Your friend who abandoned you and whose fault it is that you are where you are right now?" So, yeah, he might have a problem with the chick. She got Cas into a whole lot of trouble.

"It's not her fault I am where I am right now," Cas replies patiently. "Besides, even if it were, I like where I am. Don't you?" When Dean looks at him he raises an eyebrow and tilts his head like he had last night when Dean had gasped, breathless and high with aftermath, "We can't do this anymore, I think you broke me."

Dean flushes and looks at the road again, unable to suppress a grin. "Okay, yeah, I like where you are." He makes a mental note that he really needs to fuck Cas in the Impala sometime soon.

His grin fades when he remembers what Cas said. "Why do you want to call her?"

"If she has recovered her grace…" Cas pulls up his shoulders. "She might have called me if she has, but maybe she didn't. This will be very dangerous, we could use another angel on our side."

"So you want her for back-up," Dean clarifies.

Cas appears confused. "Yes."

"And you want to call her - do you even have her number?"

"Yes." Cas frowns. "Dean-"

"I thought you hadn't been in contact with her since you sent her parents on the way after telling them that all of heaven wants to kill their daughter, who actually isn't really their daughter?" Dean doesn't know why he's getting so ticked off; he just knows he is annoyed for some reason.

"I haven't been in contact with her directly," Cas explains slowly, making Dean grit his teeth with impatience. He just wants to know what the fuck is going on. "Jimmy has called her parents on my behalf after I returned - I didn't know about phone numbers at the time. They have called periodically ever since to let me know they're in good health."

"And after Jimmy was gone, you spoke to them directly," Dean infers impatiently.

Cas inclines his head. "Yes. The last time was two years ago; the longer they went undiscovered, the longer the distance between their calls became."

"Did you talk to them while you were going through your rough patches?" That's a pretty harmless way to put it, really, considering the things Cas did to himself.

"No. Claire did, however. She... I don't think she knows what's really going on, but I do believe she suspects."

"That you're an angel?" Dean bites his lower lip. Cas had told him he had never told anyone about that before, but if Jimmy told Claire it wouldn't have been Cas who told her. Which means Cas wouldn't consider it lying or at least letting Dean believe something that wasn't true. If it's that, Dean doesn't know what he's going to do - yell a lot, probably. Maybe get out of the car and hit some trees or something.

Thankfully, it turns out he doesn't need to injure his knuckles or vocal cords. Cas says, "No. I think she believes Jimmy is psychic."

"Huh." Dean calms down instantly, doesn't even really know anymore why he got so worked up in the first place. "So you want to call Anna and check if she's all leveled up, and if yes you want her to come help us kill Azazel?" His mom won't like that, not at all. She doesn't trust Cas at all, and Dean has vouched for him. She might start thinking Dean has been brainwashed after all if Dean drags another angel into what she considers family business. Not that Dean doesn't agree that it's personal, but still. He'd rather involve some angel that Cas has vouched for and make sure Azazel really ends up dead than not take all the back-up they can only for Azazel to escape somehow.

"Yes," Cas confirms, sounding somewhat relieved. "What do you think?"

Dean glances at Cas. "You think she's going to help us?"

Cas hesitates for a moment. "Anael would have helped me without question. I don't know Anna, but if she has recovered her grace, she has recovered her memories, which should make it more likely that she'll help me."

"Okay." Dean shrugs with one shoulder. "Call her, whatever."

Cas does. At first he speaks to some woman named Rose, reassuring her that he's fine and that everything is safe, he hasn't been discovered, he would just like to speak to Anna for a moment. There is a slight pause there for a moment, and then Cas's demeanor changes abruptly; his spine stiffens, he straightens in his seat as his whole body tenses up. "Hello, Anael," he says.

So that answers the question of whether or not Anna is all angelfied up or not.

Dean stays silent while Cas explains the situation in very few words - "We're going to kill Azazel and could use your help" are his exact words - and in fact doesn't say a word while Cas tells her she has some time to think about it, they're not going to do it right now. Then Cas tells her that he'll call her this evening and hangs up.

"So, nice family reunion," Dean jokes and immediately wants to hit himself.

Cas's fingers on his knees tense for a moment and he turns his head to look out of the window.

Dean apologizes immediately. "Hey, Cas, I'm sorry. I didn't mean it like that, you know me and my big mouth."

"I do indeed." Cas snorts and leers at Dean, and it does appear a bit forced but Dean knows he's forgiven.

He sighs. "Okay, so she didn't sound too happy to hear from you. _You_ didn't sound too happy to hear from her."

Cas hesitates for a moment and Dean wonders if this will be when he finally admits that Anael totally pulled a selfish move there when she fell. "It... is difficult," Cas tells him finally. "We once were very close, but... she never told me she was planning to fall - I can only assume because she knew I would tell her not to. I believe she might feel some resentment towards me because it was effectively me who prevented her from having the normal life she wanted when she was just one year old."

"For fuck's sake, Cas," Dean interrupts angrily. "It's not your fucking fault your asshole angel buddies want to kill her for bailing on them. It's certainly not your fucking fault that you refused to do it when they ordered you to. You saved her life by warning her parents about the danger they were in. Stop feeling so fucking guilty for doing a good thing, for fuck's sake."

Cas is silent for a moment but Dean isn't going to take it back, no way. "Will you stop feeling unworthy for being unable to keep your family together?" Cas finally asks quietly.

Dean tightens his grip on the wheel and doesn't say a thing until Cas continues, "It's not your fault your mother and brother went their separate ways. It doesn't mean they love you any less."

"They were pretty eager to finally get away," Dean returns sharply.

"Sam was eager to start life at university, and your mother was eager to be finally able to pick up her hunt for Azazel," Cas replies, voice calm. "Neither reason had anything to do."

"Yeah, I was just fucking collateral." Dean bites his tongue as soon as the words are out. He doesn't want to be angry at his mother and brother but he can't help it sometimes. It's not their fault, though. It had always been his job to keep the family together, to take care of his brother and of his mom, and he had done a good job for a while. He doesn't know when it all started to fall apart. Maybe he shouldn't have taken that job at the garage.

"It's what happens," Cas says gently. "Family dynamics change when the children grow up and move out to have their own lives. They still care about you."

"Yeah, I know," Dean replies soberly. "I know." He does know that. He also knows it wasn't enough, but none of them can help that.

Neither of them says anything else until they arrive in front of Sam's dorm to find not just Sam standing there with a duffel and waiting, but Jess as well. With her own bag, and she doesn't look like she just happens to be standing there next to Sam while waiting for her own ride.

"Sam," Dean greets carefully as he gets out of the car. Cas gets out as well but he stays back, just stretches lazily - Dean can't help but glance at the sliver of belly his t-shirt exposes as it rides up.

"Uh, hey Dean," Sam replies and tightens his grip on his duffel, glancing at Jess. "Jess wants to come with us."

Dean just looks at them both for a moment. "You're joking."

Sam shakes his head, and Dean looks at Jess. "You're serious? You want to come with while we kill a demon?"

Jess is pale but her eyes are determined and serious. "Yes."

For a moment Dean just looks back and forth between Sam and Jess. Tthen he slumps and runs a hand through his hair, giving a gusty sigh. "Fuck. Why don't we make a fucking party out of it and send invitations?"

Sam looks at Jess. "I told her it would be very dangerous."

"We could all end up dead, you do realize that?" Dean returns, looking at both Sam and Jess.

Jess's mouth tightens, but there's a fierce glint in her eyes. "This is what you do," she says firmly. "This is what Sam does. If I want to be part of this family, I'll have to learn to deal with it eventually, don't I?"

"I suppose." Dean sighs and rubs his face with both hands. "You couldn't have started her with a simple salt and burn, could you?" he addresses Sam, who shrugs awkwardly. "Okay, get in the fucking car before I change my mind."

Cas does a cartwheel before he gets back into the car. This isn't the first time he's done that; he says it stretches his whole body and wakes up his muscles after he's sat in the car for a while, but it just seems to underline the ridiculousness of their situation.

"Mom won't like it," Dean tells all of them as they roll out of the parking lot. It reminds him that he hasn't told Sam yet about the fact that Cas is an angel, which will be just another ridiculous conversation in the parody his life suddenly has become. For a moment he can almost understand Sam's yearning for what he calls a "normal life".

"Jess is part of the family," Sam says firmly. Only then does Dean realize that his brother joined his girlfriend in the backseat; normally, when Dean and Sam are in the car Sam takes shotgun no matter who else is with them. But this time nobody even paused to think about it, Dean included. This means something, Dean knows it does, but he's just too busy to think about that on top of everything else.

"Not arguing that, Sammy," he replies, "But she's a rookie. She knows nothing about hunting, and demons are big game. Can you even shoot?" he addresses Jess.

"I can learn," Jess says firmly.

Great, Dean thinks, but he doesn't say it. Jess is coming with them and that's final, apparently. He's not going to be the one who tells Mary, though he'll most likely be the one to take the flack when she gets pissed off for "letting" Sam bring his girlfriend. As if he could have prevented it; Sam can be as stubborn as a mule. Most likely he would sooner not have come himself rather than leave Jess behind.

Just as well. Let Jess see what hunting really is about; if she manages to deal with that, nothing else will probably make her turn away and run screaming.

They drive for a couple of hours during which Dean and Cas have a silent conversation with just their eyes and hand signals to determine if and when they tell Sam and Jess about Cas being an angel. Cas decrees that Dean is the one who has to tell them. If they had been talking with their mouths Dean would've put up a token protest, but they're communicating via hand signals, so he doesn't, just acquiesces. If Cas wants him to tell Sam, he will, no problem.

It's afternoon by the time they finally stop at a diner for a late lunch. They all have greasy, calorie-laden platefuls, except for Sam who takes his usual rabbit food; Dean highly approves of Jess's fries and cheeseburger, especially when she adds bacon to her order and later gives it all to Dean. Definitely a keeper, that girl.

After they're all full they get ice cream to take away, and then Dean drives them away from the diner into non-civilization. He's not going to have this talk anywhere were people can overhear.

"Okay," Dean says and stops the car.

"Let's go sit in the sun," Cas suggests before Dean can say anything else, and the all clamber out of the car again and sit in a circle like a bunch of hippies or nature lovers or something.

"Okay," Dean says again once they're all settled and spooning their melting ice cream. "Cas and I have to tell you something."

Sam's eyes widen. "You're pregnant? Don't you think that's a bit early, Dean?"

Jess tries to suppress a laugh but that only makes her giggle harder into her hand; Cas doesn't even make the effort to hide his amusement. Dean sends his brother a glare. "Nice, Sam. No, we're not pregnant. It's about Cas."

That sobers Cas up immediately, and at his reaction, Jess calms down quickly as well.

"Okay, sorry," Sam apologizes, making a point of looking earnest. "What is it?"

"Cas is an angel," Dean replies. He thinks maybe he's getting the hang of imparting very important information in a quick and efficient way. No beating around the bush, just out of it. Anything else just prolongs the moment, and it will make people suspicious as well.

"Very funny." Sam rolls his eyes. "No, seriously. What's going on?"

"It's the truth," Cas involves himself, seeming completely focused on dipping his plastic spoon in his mint chocolate chip ice cream.

"Yeah," Dean confirms when Sam looks at him with a puzzled frown.

"Seriously?" Sam asks.

"Yes, Sam, seriously. Cas is an angel." Dean rolls his eyes at having to spell it out again.

"Angels don't exist," Sam returns firmly, eyes narrowed.

Jess snorts. "Two days ago I thought demons and ghosts don't exist," she scoffs. "Why should angels be any different?" Yeah, that girl has balls. Dean could almost fall in love with her if he weren't already- oh, no. _No way_. This is not the moment to have an epiphany about his stupid feelings. _No._

"Dean?" Sam says sharply, pulling Dean out of his thoughts. "Could you perhaps stop staring at my girlfriend and fucking _explain_?"

"I think I just-" Dean clears his throat. "Right." He focuses on the issue at hand again, which is telling Sam and Jess that Cas is an angel, not frantically trying not to think about how he's maybe in love with said angel. "What is there to explain? He's an angel."

Sam growls with frustration and pointedly turns to Cas, who is looking at Dean with a puzzled frown. "Where do you come from?"

Cas blinks and says, "Pontiac, Illinois."

Filing that information away for later, Dean rolls his eyes. "He means heaven, idiot." Great. Having feeling stuff for Cas doesn't prevent him from being able to insult the guy. That's a relief.

"Seriously." Sam stares at Cas with wide eyes. "Oh my god!" Cas grimaces and Sam immediately flusters. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean... oh, man!"

Jess seems fairly amused at Sam's demeanor and Dean admittedly is as well, even though Cas looks somewhat uncomfortable. Jess probably enjoys the turn-about, Dean figures; yesterday she was the one in a situation somewhat like Sam's.

"Okay." Dean snaps his fingers in front of Sam's face until Sam stops staring at Cas with that starry-eyed expression and looks at him with irritation. "Eat your ice cream," Dean tells Cas firmly. "What do you want to know?" he then addresses Sam, snapping his fingers in front of his face again when Sam starts to stare at Cas again.

Sam looks both irritated and faintly guilty, but he stops trying to stare at Cas and looks at Dean. "So... I don't even know where to start. What is he doing here?"

"Trying not to be killed by his stupid angel buddies," Dean replies. "Next question."

Sam frowns. "What does that mean?"

"A couple of years ago, he refused to follow orders," Dean explains. "They don't like rebels much in heaven, and now they're trying to kill him. He's trying to stay undercover, which is why neither of you can talk to about this with _anybody else_. Got that? Not even each other where anybody could overhear. They have ears everywhere." Dean has no idea if the latter is true at all but they did find Anna within a year and Cas is very, very careful with his angel mojo. It stands to reason that they're not all that incompetent at finding renegade angels. It's better Sam and Jess are overly careful than careless and end up getting Cas discovered.

They both nod firmly. "Don't worry," Sam tells Cas earnestly; now he definitely looks guilty, though Dean has no idea why. "We won't tell anybody."

Cas nods, scooping up his last bit of melted ice cream out of his cup before putting it aside. The angel is totally littering, Dean thinks with inappropriate glee. "Perhaps I should hide you all," Cas says thoughtfully. "You'd be much safer from discovery that way."

"Like Anna's family?" Dean asks. It reminds him that he had never asked how exactly Cas had done that. "How did you even do that?"

"Sigils," Cas replies. He reaches out and presses his flat hand to Dean's chest, above his heart. Dean feels a weird jolt, like somebody pushed and pulled at his chest at the same time; he twitches, but it's gone in less than a second.

"Whoa. What was that?"

"Sigils," Cas says again, sounding patient. "I carved them into your ribs. Now no angel can find you."

"Well, that's great," Dean says. "But doesn't that mean that you can't find me either?"

Cas shrugs. "We have cell phones."

"Right, and angels don't." Dean is not being sarcastic; they really don't. Cas hadn't even known what a telephone number was until Jimmy had told him.

He turns back to Sam and Jess, who are staring at them both with somewhat round eyes. "What?"

"You carved sigils into Dean's ribs?" Sam asks incredulously. When Cas nods, he turns to his brother. "And you don't mind?"

Dean frowns. "Why the hell would I? Especially if it's keeping the asshole angels away."

Sam shakes his head, but doesn't say anything else. "You want to do that to me and Jess as well?"

"It would be for your own safety," Cas says slowly, eyes flickering back and forth between Sam and Jess.

"What the hell," Jess says and thrusts her chest out towards Cas, which just looks totally wrong, what with the boobs she has there and all. "Have at it," she gives permission; Dean tries really hard and mostly succeeds in not thinking any dirty thoughts. Cas obediently reaches out and presses his hand to her chest above her heart just like he had with Dean, she gasps and twitches, and then Cas pulls away again.

Jess looks down and pats her chest for a moment where Cas touched her, but of course there's no visible mark. "What?" she then asks Sam, who is goggling at her. "I told you we're in this together. If being with you means having to accept stuff like that, then I can do it."

That leads to a very kitschy moment; Dean huffs and rolls his eyes, turning to look at Cas so he doesn't have to watch his little brother snog his girlfriend. Cas returns the look seriously, and his expression is a little weird; Dean can't really tell what's going on with him, but he reaches out and puts his hand on Cas's knee anyway. It makes the corners of Cas's mouth curl up.

Dean doesn't realize they're staring at each other until Sam clears his throat. A little flustered, Dean turns his head to face his little brother, who is wearing a smirk even though he's flushing with embarrassment himself. Just when Dean is about to take his hand off Cas's knee Cas puts his own hand on top of it, pressing down to keep him there. "What about you?" he asks Sam.

"Oh, sure," Sam says, leaning over a little. Cas puts his hand on Sam's chest as well and a second later Sam is protected from hostile angels too. From any angels, really, but there's apparently a considerably higher number of asshole angels around.

"I'm surprised," Cas says as he pulls back. "That you trust me that easily."

Sam blinks. "Dean trusts you," he replies as if that's all he needs to know – and apparently it is. Dean ducks his head a little to hide his pleased and maybe a little surprised smile. When he looks up he finds Sam looking faintly exasperated, Cas smiling and Jess with one raised eyebrow.

"Does mom know?" Sam thankfully decides to take mercy on him.

Dean and Cas both sober; Cas's leg under Dean's hand tenses for a moment. Dean squeezes him and says tightly, "Yeah."

"Didn't go so well, then," Sam infers. "What did she say?"

What _didn't_ she say. "That he isn't better than any other creature," Dean bites out. Cas's hand finds his again and Dean entwines their fingers to squeeze. "That if he does anything she doesn't like, she'll personally hunt him down and kill him." Cas squeezes his hand in return. Dean hates how calm and expressionless his face is. He should be _angry_.

Sam makes a noise Dean can't interpret; when Dean looks at him he finds his brother looking both annoyed and unsurprised. "Figures," Sam mutters. "Did she try to kill him when you told her?"

"No. But she did make us go through monster weapon hell."

Sam grimaces and looks away. "Maybe she'll come around." Sam doesn't believe it any more than Dean does, Dean can tell.

"She treated him like a tool," Dean tells his brother. That's really what pisses Dean off the most; not that she's angry that Cas is an angel, not even really that she doesn't appear willing to trust Dean's opinion. It's how she refuses to see beyond Cas's origins and casually dismisses even the idea that Cas might have human feelings, and how much she hurts him with that. The worst is that she doesn't even seem to notice, and that she wouldn't care even if she knew.

Cas squeezes Dean's hand again; he doesn't say a word. Sam appears to not to know what to say either – he makes an aggravated noise, but not much else.

It's Jess who saves them from awkwardness. "Well, that's nice," she says sarcastically. Turning to Cas, she continues, "I don't know much about this kind of stuff, but I think you're a good person. It doesn't matter whether you're human or not."

Cas squeezes Dean's hand again. With a slight smile, he replies, "Thank you."

Jess returns the smile and then turns to Sam. "This is like a new kind of ethnic conflict. Your mom should learn that species doesn't extrapolate to character. Maybe she should attend Sensitivity Training."

Sam snorts, Dean snorts, the brothers share a look and then they start to laugh. It's just too funny; the mere idea of Mary Winchester attending a sensitivity training class that is supposed to teach her that being an angel doesn't make you a bad person is absolutely hilarious.

Or maybe it's not that funny after all, Dean thinks, sobering, because she obviously needs it.

Dean turns his head to look at Cas only to find that Cas is already looking at him; impulsively, Dean reaches out and pulls him in by the neck, pressing a short kiss to his lip. When he turns back to his brother, feeling only slightly embarrassed because he's never been demonstrative like this in front of his family, Sam is staring at him with wide eyes. "Dean," he says, sounding scandalized. "Are you having sex with an angel?"

"You know," Dean replies after a moment, "I actually think that between the two of us, Cas does more of the defiling."

Sam makes a horrified noise, Jess laughs and Cas rolls his eyes. All is right in the world for that one moment, Dean thinks.

They don't quite drive through to Peoria because Jess isn't used to long car rides during which there is nothing much to do, and also because Sam needs to stretch his freakishly long legs. As a consequence Dean stops twice for the two of them and during the second stop (which is completely unnecessary in his opinion, it's only two hours of a drive left) he makes a point of kissing Cas breathless. He doesn't really know which point he's trying to make, but he takes great care getting it across.

It's nearly two am by the time they finally arrive and all they are capable of is getting themselves into a motel and the two rooms they book. Dean sort of doesn't want their rooms to be right next to each other because the thought of his brother overhearing him having loud sex with Cas is only marginally better than the thought of his mother overhearing them, but in the name of safety he has to make some concessions. Besides, they're not really up for anything than falling facedown into bed as soon as they get into their room and have it warded. Not even the knowledge that they might be in the same city as the demon that murdered his father is able to keep Dean awake.

Way too early the next morning the incessant ringing of his mobile wakes Dean up. Groping for it grumpily, Dean doesn't even check who it is; it's not like many people have this number anyway.

He finds he should have checked when it turns out to be his mom.

"Dean," she says unceremoniously, "I have the Colt. I'm going to be in Peoria before midnight. You need to have a location ready by then."

Dean bites back anything he wants to say to that - thanks, mom, I'm great, how are you, yes we are in Peoria already, and oh by the way Sam and Jess are here as well - and just says, "Yes, ma'am."

She hangs up, leaving Dean to stare at his mobile for a moment, not knowing how to feel, until he notices the time. It's seven am.

With a groan he lets his head drop back into the pillow and flings the mobile away somewhere, not caring if it will crash into a wall and break.

"Dean?" Cas mumbles from behind him, voice rough and sleepy. Dean heaves himself up so he can turn around and look at him. He finds Cas looking deliciously disheveled and wearing a sleepy, puzzled frown.

Dean can't resist; he just has to lean in and kiss those lips. Then he pulls back, reaching out to run the back of his hand over Cas's cheek. "You need a shave," he says. Cas does indeed; he hasn't shaved in two days, since the morning the day they went to check out that church. It feels like that was ages ago when it wasn't even forty-eight hours.

"I also need a shower, a decent meal, and your cock," Cas agrees.

"Hopefully not in that order." With fake seriousness Dean raises an eyebrow and waits until Cas huffs and leans in to catch his lips again.

They're too tired to move much, lacking two nights of decent sleep, so for a while they just kiss, tongues moving slick against each other. All Dean has the energy for except for that is to slide his hand up and down Cas's sleep-warm, curved spine, every now and then going higher to tangle his fingers in the messy black hair or lower to give that ass a nice squeeze.

But they're really too tired for much else, and so eventually they slow down. Dean drifts off between one kiss and the next.

The next time he's woken up it's to the much more pleasant noise of Cas trying to suppress a grunt. At first Dean isn't awake enough to react, just rolls towards the noise until he bumps into Cas. When he finds Cas deliciously naked, though, he definitely takes notice and opens his eyes.

To find Cas lying on his belly, three fingers knuckle-deep in his own ass. "Finally," he says, giving Dean a wide, toothy smile. "I was starting to think I would have to finish on my own."

"Don't you dare," Dean growls, suddenly completely awake. He quickly divests himself of his t-shirt and boxers (he doesn't even remember if and when he took his jeans and shoes and even his socks of, but that really is of no importance right now) and then pounces on Cas, who grins and turns a little to his side so the angle won't give him a crick in the neck when they kiss.

"Been waiting for you to wake up," Cas gasps when they pull apart. Dean growls again and reaches out to pinch his nipples roughly. Just the thought of Cas lying there and fingering himself, waiting for Dean who was sleeping right next to him... if he hadn't turned hard the moment he realized what Cas was doing, this would have done it at the latest.

"Did you fantasize about what I'd do to you when I wake up?" he asks, leaning in to nip at Cas's jaw.

Cas nods quickly, pupils blown wide. His fingers are still rhythmically thrusting into his ass, stretching him, preparing him for Dean's cock.

"What did you imagine?" Dean prompts. Cas sometimes doesn't get when it's time for dirty talk. (And sometimes he manages to surprise Dean completely by randomly whispering the filthiest thing into his ear, resulting in embarrassing instant boners. It's made all the more hot by the fact that so far, Cas has always followed through.)

"You," Cas gasps, baring his neck. Dean takes the unspoken invitation and scrapes his teeth over Cas's throat, presses his tongue into his jugular, feeling the pulse race underneath. "You. Fucking me."

Dean gives up, figuring he won't get anything more coherent out of Cas anymore right up, and reaches down to take hold of Cas's cock. Cas give a startled moan so loud it's nearly a yell; Dean revels in the sound for a moment before he remembers that his little brother is in the next room. He doesn't really want to make Cas stay quiet though, he enjoys the noises the angel makes way too much, especially that choked little grunt Cas always makes when Dean pushes into him the first time (or when he pushes into Dean the first time), and so he uses his free hand to cover Cas's mouth.

Cas apparently likes that a lot because his eyes roll up a little and he moans loudly, the sound muffled by Dean's hand.

"You filthy little thing," Dean murmurs appreciatively, reaching out with his other hand to pull Cas's hand away from his ass. Cas resist for a moment, whining pleadingly, but he obeys when Dean doesn't let up. "How much longer would you have lasted?" Dean asks, reaching for the tube of lube Cas put on the nightstand, squeezing some into his hand. "Fucking yourself with your fingers while I was lying there right next to you." He moans as he coats his dick with the cool lube; Cas under him whines and writhes, spreading his legs wide in an obvious invitation. He's so utterly shameless; Dean adores it. Without further ado he takes his hand off Cas's mouth and guides his cock to Cas's hole, pushing in with one swift move.

Cas groans and then he makes that needy little gasp; Dean moans as well before remembering belatedly that right, they need to be quiet. He uses his hand to cover Cas's mouth again. With the other hand, he pulls Cas's forearm over and bites into it - not hard, just enough so Cas will keep it there and so it'll at least partially muffle any noises Dean makes. Pillows would probably more effective for them both, but Dean wants to see Cas's face.

And then he can finally pull back and thrust back in, establish a proper rhythm and feel every breath Cas takes, every gasp he makes against his palm. The moans and groans the angel emits vibrate against his skin and Dean has to suck at Cas's skin, tighten the hold he has on his forearm with his teeth so his own moans won't be too loud either.

They don't really last long; Cas looks wrecked and Dean is completely gone on it as well. Cas comes quickly, spilling come all over them both and groaning loudly into Dean's hand; Dean quickly pulls it off so Cas can breathe properly because the angel is starting to look a little out of it. Dean himself feels a little lightheaded as well but he doesn't want to let go of Cas's forearm yet. Cas doesn't seem to want that either because he pushes his arm into Dean's mouth a little deeper, looking up at him with wide eyes, mouth open as he gasps in air. Dean shivers and sucks hard, knowing it must hurt, but Cas doesn't make a sound, just looks at him watching. Waiting for him to come in his ass.

It's that knowledge that sends Dean over the brink and with a muffled moan he loses his rhythm, releasing deep in Cas's body.

He loses track of the next couple of minutes; he's vaguely aware of hands on his body, arranging him however Cas wants him, and then they lie together, sticky and hot and out of breath.

Eventually Dean is aware enough of his surroundings again to shift a little until he can press his mouth to Cas's skin, if with little finesse. "Hey," Cas murmurs quietly in response, twitching a little like he wants to move but can't find the energy to.

"Cas," Dean says, feeling like he should say something, something substantial. But it terrifies him, the thing he wants to say; he can't even acknowledge to himself that it's true. He certainly can't say it to Cas, not yet. Not until he knows what it means.

They might die tomorrow anyway.

 

*

Just when they're about to head over to meet up with Sam and Jess for breakfast Cas says to Dean, "I'm going to tell Anael where we are."

Dean doesn't like it. "Do you have to?"

Raising one eyebrow, Cas replies, "How can she help us if she doesn't even know where we are?"

He has a point, Dean has to admit. He still doesn't like it; not just because he doesn't know Anael (not to mention doesn't like her at all, no matter what Cas says) but also because the more people they tell where they are and what they're planning, the less secure and secret the mission, of course. "You trust her?" he asks seriously.

"If she doesn't want to help us, she still won't tell anyone where we are and what we're about to do," Cas answers, equally serious, and it's not a yes but Dean supposes it's good enough.

"Okay, fine." He heads out to knock on Sam and Jess's door because he doesn't want to listen to Cas talk to his sister on the phone.

Jess opens the door and winks. "You had a good night, I hear," she teases.

Dean winks. "Always, honey. You sure you picked the right brother?"

Jess laughs and just tells him they'll be ready in a minute, Sam needs to fuss over his hair for a bit more.

When Dean gets back to their room Cas is just hanging up. Dean leans in the doorway and looks at him for a moment. "Sam and Jess will be out in a minute."

Cas looks up at him and nods. "Anna is going to come here after she's let her parents know," he tells Dean.

"Anna, huh?" Finally stepping into the room, Dean hesitantly reaches out and is relieved when Cas moves towards him, lets Dean put his hand on his waist in a way that might be possessive. Maybe.

"She prefers being called by the human name her parents gave her," Cas explains, leaning in to give Dean an brief kiss on the lips. "We should discuss the plan over breakfast."

"In that case, we shouldn't have breakfast in public." Dean tightens his grip on Cas's waist and leans in to rub his cheek over Cas's freshly shaved one. He's not sure which he likes better; Cas, skin smooth and soft, or Cas with his five o'clock shadow that appears way before five o'clock.

"No, we shouldn't," Cas murmurs, body swaying towards Dean's, leaning against him.

"Dean," Sam says from the doorway.

Pulling apart a little but not taking his hand off Cas's waist, Dean turns around to face his brother.

"You ready?" Sam asks. He's wearing that face of his that means he's thinking serious thoughts and trying very hard to seem like he isn't.

Dean nods, but says, "Cas thinks we should discuss the plan over breakfast."

Sam gets it immediately. "So, take-out. Okay. You coming?"

Dean blinks with confusion; Sam is perfectly capable of getting take-out for four people. Apparently, though, he wants some time alone with his brother, which fair enough. They haven't had any time alone with each other since Dean's last visit, when Dean had arrived a couple of hours before their mom.

Giving Cas a brief pat on the waist Dean slides his fingertips over Cas's hipbone and then follows his brother out. They aim for the next diner, which is just close enough not to warrant taking the Impala (though seriously, Dean can find reason to take the Impala to drive next door; she's his baby), and they've been walking in silence for a couple of minutes when Sam says, "So you're serious?"

Being somewhat used to Sam's non-sequitur, because his brother sometimes doesn't seem to get that other people don't live in his head and can't see his train of thoughts, Dean just rolls his eyes and huffs.

Sam huffs as well but clarifies, "With Cas, I mean."

It nearly stops him in his tracks. Is he that obvious? Which on the one hand isn't such a big deal because Dean has never tried to hide a relationship, even one that lasted no longer than a few hours. Sometimes he, in fact, makes a point out of snogging a guy in full view of everyone just to provoke some homophobic assholes; he even has done it with Cas, though Cas had been right there along with him, enjoying the defiant display. Cas has a thing for rebellion.

On the other hand, however... it's not the thing itself that bothers him. It's that Dean has never let somone who isn't family that close. Not even Ellen and Jo, who at times were almost like his surrogate aunt and sister. But with Cas it just happened before he even knew it, and so quickly too; when Dean thinks about it, they've barely known each other for half a year, more than half of which Dean spent thinking Cas's name was Jimmy and he was human. Hell, they've only been having sex for barely two weeks.

"Dean?"

Startled out of his thoughts, Dean pulls up his shoulders. "I don't know, Sammy," he says quietly.

"Hm," Sam makes thoughtfully. "I think he's good for you."

Incredulous, Dean raises an eyebrow. "Sam, you only met the guy for the first time not even a week ago."

"I didn't need to have met him to know that he's good for you," Sam retorts. "It was obvious pretty early on."

"What do you mean?" Dean frowns. Early on there hadn't even been anything to be obvious about.

"You didn't call as often after you and Jim- Cas started hunting," Sam explains.

Stung, Dean starts, "If you were that bothered by me calling, you should have-"

"Dean?" Sam interrupts loudly. "That's not it at all, and you know it!" Dean isn't sure he does. "I just mean that... it's not healthy, this... co-dependent thing you had going."

Yeah, and Sam is not at all making it better. "Let's just fucking get breakfast," he grinds, but Sam takes hold of his shoulder and pulls him around. Dean shrugs him off, crosses his arms and clenches his jaw, ready for whatever Sam has got to say.

"Dean, you're my brother, and I love you. Hell, at times you practically raised me; we both know mom wasn't the most accessible parent around. She did her best but it was _you_ who was always there for me. And I took it for granted, and I think mom did too, knowing that she could just head off whenever she wanted, knowing you were there to take care of me. We both forgot that you have your own dreams, your own life. I think you forgot, too. I just... I'm just happy you have your own life now, okay?"

"You were the one who left, Sam," Dean replies, because it's true, and because he has no idea what the fuck to say to something like that, how to react. Maybe it's true but Dean doesn't really see something wrong with it - or he wouldn't have even half a year ago, and that scares him, that something so fundamental has changed in him, and that it might be because of Cas.

"Because I have my own dreams, my own life," Sam says, and yeah, that still hurts. "It doesn't mean you're any less important to me. It just means that other things, other people become important to me too." Sam bites his lower lip and looks down. "I just want you to have that too. Other people, other things - things we maybe don't share. We've always been different people, Dean, and I know mom tended to coddle me and roll over you a little in the process. Hell, she still does. But we're not fourteen and ten anymore. We're our own persons, with our own lives. I have Jess, and I'm going to become a lawyer. And you're a hunter, and you have Cas. And I'm happy for you."

What the hell do you say to something like that? Dean has no fucking clue, and so he settles for an awkward shrug. "I'm happy for you too," he says, and he finds he actually means it.

Dean is quiet while they get breakfast and remains so on the walk back; Sam leaves him to his brooding, thankfully. Dean can stand only so much deep talk at a time and this seriously isn't the best day for soul-searching discussions anyway.

If Cas notices his mood - and he probably does, he notices a lot about Dean, which is puzzling because sometimes he still has some left-over puzzled awkwardness at how some humans behave - he doesn't comment on it. He and Jess are sitting on the floor, Cas's notebook between them. Cas has scribbled a couple of sigils in there; Dean recognizes a Devil's Trap and some warding stuff, it seems like Cas is teaching her how to make sure she's safe. Which is the best point to start, Dean thinks - it's the first thing Mary taught him too, when he was five and it was his job to protect Sammy.

Dean and Sam join them on the floor, handing out the food, and for a few minutes everybody is quiet, too busy getting food into their mouths to have time to get words out. But eventually Sam swallows and asks, "So what do we have?" It's reminiscent of so many other times when Sam had asked him that, but it's about a year since they last went on a hunt together. Dean almost can't believe how different everything is now.

"Mom will be here by midnight, with the Colt," Dean offers.

"Samuel Colt's Colt?" Sam says at the same time as Jess asks, "What Colt?"

Dean nods, and Sam turns to Jess to explain. "Samuel Colt was a hunter in mid to late eighteen hundred. He made a bunch of weapons, among which a colt with thirteen bullets that can kill everything."

"Almost every creature," Cas corrects. "There are five things in creation the Colt can't kill."

Everybody turns to stare at Cas. "What?" Dean says after a moment of startled silence.

Cas blinks. "You did not know?"

"Dude, obviously not. What can't the Colt kill?" Seriously. How does nobody know this? Dean can just imagine what could happen if somebody went after big game, believing themselves safe due to the Colt, only to find out that it doesn't work. Talk about suicide mission.

"Angels, among which also some former angels, which includes the Morning Star and the Four Horsemen, but not angels turned demons," Cas lists, making Dean's head whirl with just that tidbit of information. Angels turned demons? What the hell? "The Anti-Christ, Death, Gods at the height of their power, ghosts."

"Ghost," Dean echoes, a bit incredulous. But seriously, everything in that list is big game, and then _ghosts_?

"The only way to kill a ghost is by salting and burning its earthly remains," Cas explains patiently.

"Okay," Sam says, swallowing and throwing a hasty glance at Jess, who looks a bit freaked. "What can kill angels, then?"

Cas looks at him and says, "Other angels." His voice is perfectly calm and matter-of-fact, but it still chills Dean to the bones.

"Okay," he thus says loudly. "Back on track. Mom will be here by midnight, with the Colt. She wants us to have found a location by then."

"You have anything in mind?" Sam asks.

Dean shrugs. "Call Bobby?" Bobby is something of a central point of the hunter world. If anyone can help them it's Bobby, even if Bobby will only be able to refer them to somebody else who knows the area better.

"Okay." Sam whips out his own notebook and starts to write a To Do list. "Call Bobby. What else?"

"We need hex bags," Dean tells him and watches as Sam writes it down. "For protection," he informs Jess. She looks pretty lost for which Dean is sorry, but they can't coddle her right now. They simply don't have the time.

Sam writes it down and says, "Gotta talk to Bobby about that too, to find out where to get the ingredients."

"What's a hex bag?" Jess asks.

"A bag with… stuff in it," Dean explains. "It offers protection. Of course, witches often make them to kill people, but the ingredients are different."

"Witches." Jess shakes her head and takes a deep breath. She impatiently waves Sam's worried "You okay?" off; "I can do this," she says firmly. "It's all a bit new still, but I'll get used to it."

Dean looks at her for a moment, and then Cas says, "I'm not sure you should come with us when we hunt Azazel down."

Jess looks upset at that, but Dean agrees. "You would be a liability," he says bluntly. "No offense."

"Dean," Sam admonishes. "I'm happy you're here," he addresses Jess.

"Dude, I'm not saying she shouldn't be here," Dean tells Sam impatiently. "I'm just saying, she could be easily used as a hostage and she can't defend herself. She can't even shoot."

"Whoa, whoa, who said I can't defend myself?" Jess demands. "I have the fourth _dan_ in taekwondo. I can defend myself plenty."

Dean has no idea what that means but he knows that taekwondo is vaguely like karate, which is helpful but not against a being with superior strength, like a demon.

"That's very good," Cas says, "but you have never had to fight against something significantly stronger than you. You've also never inflicted violence upon something that looks like a person." His mouth quirks. "At least I hope so."

"Are demons really that strong?" she asks after a short pause. "I mean, Sam told me, but…"

"I can show you." Cas gets up and holds out a hand for her. After a short moment of hesitation she lets him help her up, and though she looks a bit dubious, she lets Cas lead her over to the wall. Dean and Sam share a look, not really knowing what to make of this, and then Cas puts a hand on Jess's throat.

He's not squeezing, clearly, but Jess's eyes widen and both Sam and Dean tense.

"Make me let go," Cas says. "You can't hurt me." Dean can feel him do the thing where he lets his angel mojo come through; Dean hadn't even known that superior strength is also a property of angels, but in hindsight he wonders why he hadn't. If demons can do it, angels should be able to do it too.

And Jess tries to make Cas let go. At first tentatively, trying to push Cas off, but then she tries harder, tries to hit the inside of Cas's elbow. Nothing works; Cas doesn't budge, and Dean can see her start to panic, even though he's absolutely sure Cas isn't doing anything but hold his hand around her throat. It looks absolutely wrong and both Sam and Dean get up, take a couple of steps closer to the pair, but they don't interfere.

"Jess," Cas says quietly, just when it looks like Sam is about to interfere because Jess is visibly getting seriously scared.

She freezes, breathing heavily, eyes wide as she stares at Cas.

"There is a knife in the back of my pants. Get it and stab me with it."

Jess's eyes get even wider and she quickly shakes her head.

"Cas-", Sam tries to interfere, but Dean puts a hand on his arm. Cas would never hurt Jess and she needs to understand. They can tell her about it all they want; until she's truly in a life or death situation she won't get it. But if Cas can help her get over some of her natural inhibitions she'll have a better chance at protecting herself. Demons only look like humans.

"Jess," Cas says gently. "Jessica. You can't hurt me, I promise."

She shakes her head again, not saying a word.

With his free hand, Cas gets the knife out of the back of his pants, flicks the sheath off and offers the heft to her. "I'm not human," he reminds her and finally, Jess takes hold of the knife. It's a ka-bar and Dean supposes that to a layman it probably looks vaguely vicious with its slim, black blade.

Still, it takes a lot of coaxing before Jess will stab Cas. Both Dean and Sam get in on the trying to convince her to do it; at one point Cas glances at Dean, but Dean shakes his head. Just Cas having his hand on Jess's throat without her being able to dislodge him clearly freaks her out enough. If Cas scares her any more she'll probably start to seriously panic and Sam might kill Cas. Or at least try to, because apparently only angels can kill other angels, but still.

Looking at the situation objectively, it's probably pretty dysfunctional; Cas has his hand around Jess's throat and coaxes her into stabbing him with her ka-bar while Dean and Sam stand next to them and reassure her that it's okay. But this is their life, apparently.

Eventually Dean loses patience and puts his hand on Jess's wrapped around the hilt of the knife. She already managed to put the tip of it to Cas's sternum once she calmed down a little, but that's all. "Let's do it together," Dean suggests, and before she can protest, he pulls back and then rams the blade into Cas's belly. It doesn't go in further than halfway, but it goes in, so.

Jess flinches and gasps, and Sam looks uncomfortable and vaguely freaked out, but Cas smiles and says "Good," finally letting go of her throat and stepping back. Eyes wide, Jess stares at him and Dean can relate somewhat; it must be freaky, how Cas is acting like nothing is wrong while he has a ka-bar stuck halfway in his belly. To be honest, it freaks Dean out a little as well; he has seen Cas get injured, has seen him bleed and heal like a normal person, but after all, Cas isn't human. He's not even bleeding right now, it looks almost ridiculous.

Still, Jess flinches when Cas takes hold of the knife and pulls it out; they can all watch the wound close, leaving unblemished, clean skin behind. The only sign that anything happened at all is the cut in Cas's t-shirt.

"It doesn't hurt," Cas reassures Jess, who nods a little shakily.

"Seriously," she finally manages to say, voice cracking a little. "That… was out there."

"Knives don't even help against demons," Sam says, and by this point, he looks more freaked out than Jess does.

"I'm going to give her a knife that kills demons," Cas explains kindly.

"Wait. What?" Dean has never heard of such a thing. The Colt, yes, everybody knows about that, though many hunters consider it nothing more but a legend. Demon-killing knives? No legends about those.

"Anna has one," Cas informs them. "She made it for her parents. She's going bring it and we can give it to Jess."

"Who is Anna?" Sam asks, making Dean and Cas share a look. Dean can and will explain it if Cas doesn't want to but this is really Cas's story to tell, so Cas has to decide what he wants to do, how much he wants Sam and Jess to know. How much he is okay with them knowing, rather.

"Anna is my sister," Cas says slowly. "She fell. She's coming to help."

"Not that we don't need all the back-up we can get," Sam says after a moment, "But mom's not going to like it."

Dean rolls his eyes. "She's just going to have to deal." He's so done with his mother and her Rambo trip. Killing the demon who murdered John Winchester is the most important thing, not how they do it.

Sam stares at him for a moment. Suddenly he gives a startling laugh and claps Dean on the shoulder. Dean frowns at him with confusion but Sam doesn't explain himself, just pulls Jess in and kisses the top of her head. "Demon-killing knife?" he then asks Cas.

"Yes." Cas tilts his head. "It's difficult to make. It needs to be enchanted while being forged. Only angels are able to make them."

"Dude, you should've made some more while you were at it," Dean tells him, pulling Cas back to their breakfast. Sam and Jess follow after a short hug and they all sit down again. Jess still looks a little pale but she's taking this a whole lot better than Dean would have expected. Maybe she's just postponing her freak-out for later.

"It takes a lot of grace," Cas replies belatedly. "An angel cut off from heaven has great difficulty making one. At one time, there used to be many knives around, but it appears they have been lost over time."

"Did you ever make one?" Dean asks curiously.

Cas nods, gaze far away. "After Lucifer and his angels were cast out to become the first demons, we all made knives. Michael taught me how."

Sam and Jess share a look and suddenly Dean is uncomfortable with them there, witnessing Cas's moment. He reaches out to poke Cas in the shoulder, pulling him out of his memories. "Take your mojo off," he mumbles gruffly when Cas blinks and looks at him unguardedly. "You must be shining like a beacon right now."

Cas frowns and suppresses his angel powers again, making him look more human again. "You should not be able to notice," he tells Dean, frowning.

It makes Dean frown as well, because how the fuck can you not notice? He looks at Sam and Jess but Sam pulls up his shoulders. "I have no idea how you can tell," he says.

Dean huffs. So he knows Cas better, big deal. "If we can return to more important issues now…" he says. "So we gotta call Bobby about the location and the hex bags. Anna will pop in sometime today, and we have to prepare the location we don't have yet before mom arrives sometime this evening. Anything else?" He looks around and everybody shakes their heads. "Okay. One of us has to call Bobby and prepare the hex bags, one of us has to prepare the warding of the location, and one of us has to teach Jess the basics."

"I'm going to teach Jess," Sam says quickly; Dean expected no less.

"I'll prepare the warding," Cas volunteers, which leaves calling Bobby to Dean. He's not surprised; this is more or less how he expected it. Of all of them Cas knows the most about warding, naturally, and that Sam wants to be the one to teach Jess is not surprising in the least.

Bobby is gruff as usual on the phone and when Dean tells him about what's going on and just who the yellow-eyed demon that killed John Winchester is, he yells at Dean for a while. And then, unsurprisingly, he calms down and asks how he can help. After Dean has told him what they need, Bobby hangs up, telling him he'll call again in half an hour.

Jess and Sam have gone off into their own room and Dean is not inclined to interrupt. So he goes to watch Cas draw carefully detailed wards on paper, leaving notes at the bottom such as "drawn in human/angel blood" or "accompanied by chant, see backside". Dean can safely say that he has never seen at least half of these sigils.

Cas looks up when Dean sits down in the chair next to him and smiles. For no reason at all, he leans in to kiss Dean on the lips. "Was Bobby able to help you?" he asks, turning back to his wards.

Clearing his throat, Dean replies, "He's going to call back, so I guess he will." He watches Cas for a moment and then he suddenly feels the need to say something. "So, thank you." When Cas blinks and looks up, Dean explains, "For helping, I mean. You don't have to."

"Dean." Cas sounds impatient and chastising. "Of course I do."

Dean clears his throat and doesn't argue.

When Bobby calls back twenty minutes later, he not only has the perfect location for them – an empty house somewhere in the Spur Cross Ranch Conversation Area – but also the address of a psychic who sells ingredients for hex bags to a select number of customers. Dean originally plans to drive there on his own but Cas tells him that he's finished anyway and he can immediately check the potency of everything. Also, Cas apparently wants to make his own kind of hex bag. It's not really surprising anymore that Cas knows so much more; Dean just wonders if the knowledge he keeps to himself could save lives.

When he brings it up in the car Cas goes silent for a moment. "Bobby actually knows a lot about this sort of thing," he tells Dean. "You just don't need it for your normal everyday kind of hunting. And those who might need it will contact Bobby, unless they're suicidal." Dean can't help but wonder if Mary contacted Bobby, but he pushes the thought aside. It's not important anyway because Dean called him and the result will be the same.

Cas isn't finished yet, however. "I do wonder if there are people who have died because they didn't have access to the knowledge I possess that nobody else on Earth does. But I don't know what to do."

"Telling Bobby is out of the question?" Dean asks.

The reaction that gets surprises him. "Dean," Cas says rather forcefully, staring fixatedly out of the front window. "I told you – _the first person since Jimmy_ I ever told – just two months ago. Two days ago, I told your mom, and yesterday, I told your brother and his girlfriend. I really think that's enough for now."

"Yeah," Dean replies after a moment. "Sorry. You're right." He tends to underestimate how big a thing this is for Cas; hell, it would be for him too, if hundreds (thousands?) of angels who he used to consider his family were out to kill him. "I'm sorry I dragged you into this." Dean takes a breath, suddenly realizing just what he did to Cas. He should have given him another option; Cas could have gone to Ellen or on his own hunt instead of getting dragged neck-deep into this crap. There hadn't even been a _choice_ for him; Dean suddenly feels sick.

"Dean," Cas says, and he sounds seriously pissed off all of a sudden. Glancing towards the passenger seat Dean finds Cas glaring at him, blue eyes bright. "Shut the fuck up. I'm with you, so of course I'm here. Now drive to that psychic and stop being an idiot."

Dean knows when to shut up and follow an order.

 

*

The psychic is helpful enough, supplying them with everything they need to make strong warding hex bags, and then Cas for some reason gets some ingredients of his own. Dean doesn't comment on it in the presence of the psychic but afterwards, in the car, he asks.

"Some of it we'll need to summon Azazel. Additionally, I'm going to make hex bags that ward us from demons and angels alike," Cas informs him seriously.

Confused, Dean asks, "Isn't that what the sigils you carved into our ribs do?"

"Well, yes," Cas admits, "But they can't protect you when someone knows where you are. They're perfect as protection from sweeps and searches, but if someone knows where you are, they're useless. These hex bags protect from aimed searches; focused magic slides off them the same way non-focused magic slides off the sigils."

"And what does that mean?" Not that Dean can say he doesn't like it when Cas talks like a dictionary sometimes, but at other times, he wishes Cas would just speak like a normal person.

"Azazel will expect a trap; when he encounters your mother all on her own, he'll search for others. These hex bags will mask our presence from that."

Dean is amused. "Already got a plan laid out, do you?"

Raising his shoulders unapologetically, Cas says, "We don't have many options with as little time to plan as we have."

Yeah. Mary is pushing things along rather forcefully; Dean had always known she was completely focused on offing the demon that murdered her husband but he hadn't expected her to act so irrational when the time comes. There's absolutely no logic in doing things all on her own, or in pushing them all so they have sleep deprivation and maybe mess up when they ward the place where Azazel will be summoned. But Mary doesn't seem to care much.

Back at the hotel, they find Jess and Sam waiting for them with take-out. "Lunch," is all Sam says. Dean had completely forgotten but now that he's reminded that food exists he's ravenous. Even Cas eats like there's no tomorrow.

After they've all eaten, they update each other on how their mornings went; Jess now knows all about salt barriers, holy water and how to make it as well as some exorcising rituals. Sam had also told her about how to get rid of some other common monsters, just in case Azazel brings back-up or something; she's as prepared as one can expect with just a couple of hours of training.

After that, they all make hex bags, or rather, Dean and Cas make hex bags while Sam teaches Jess how to, nattering on about the different properties of the content and how it matters which order the ingredients go in and what you say and feel during the making of a hex bag. Then Cas explains to Dean how to make the other protection hex bags; he lists the ingredients, "two bones from a chicken's foot, an unbroken spider egg, two tea spoons full of both lavender and hemp - the amount of both must be exactly the same - a tea spoon full of goofer dust, and three drops of holy water" and then shows Dean how to put them in (goofer dust as the base, lavender and hemp stirred together and added afterwards, the spider egg in the middle, surrounded by the chicken bones; the holy water is dripped on top of the whole thing).

Dean ties his first hex bag with a satisfied smile; he did it perfectly right, Cas said, which is great. Normally Dean isn't too good at detail work like that; he can work on a complicated machine for hours, but the less metal and oil is involved, the more boring it gets for him.

"So," Jess says conversationally; Dean looks up to find Sam and her staring at his and Cas's work. "Of all the things that happened today, this was the freakiest."

Okay. Girl has weird standards, but whatever. She obviously isn't the fainting Victorian lady type; all the better. And it's not like Dean can't understand the sentiment; of all possible supernatural incidents around, Dean still hates those cases the most that involve witches.

"What is goofer dust?" Jess then asks.

"A mix of stuff; the main ingredients are graveyard dirt, ground snakeskin and powdered sulfur," Sam replies.

Completely focused on making the other hex bags (six of them in total, the additional ones intended for Mary and Anna), Cas adds absent-mindedly, "This goofer dust also contains the ash of a young willow, powdered insect chitin, peppermint, salt and pepper. It would be a lot more potent if we could find holy oil, but I haven't been to Jerusalem in centuries."

"I've never heard of holy oil before," Sam comments conversationally. Dean can see what he's doing; he's trying to get info out of Cas while the angel is distracted. As if Cas would fall for that with anyone but Dean.

As predicted, Cas looks up with a wry twist of his lips. "Burning holy oil repels angels. If you create a barrier of it, an angel is not able to cross it without outside help - or until the oil has burnt away."

"So you could trap an angel in a circle of burning holy oil?" Dean asks, because he can see the question on the tip of his brother's tongue, and he doesn't know how comfortable Cas would be with Sam asking something like that. Sam might trust Cas because Dean does, but Cas has more difficulties on that front, especially where his angelic nature and knowledge he gained due to his origins and age are concerned.

"Yes," Cas replies. "It doesn't work like a devil's trap for demons, though. An angel still has access to some of their powers even while trapped."

"Have you been trapped before?" Dean asks curiously.

"Yes, during the nephilim wars," Cas replies blandly. "I, along with some other angels, was confined in one by Gabriel."

Dean wants to ask, but it's obvious that this is not something easy for Cas to talk about, and this is neither the situation nor the place to find out more about Cas's angel side. Especially not while they're in the company of Sam and his girlfriend.

Once the hex bags are all finished Cas tests their effectiveness - the ones Cas made don't protect them completely from power; not if one can see them or knows for a fact where they are, but they're good enough for their purpose. The best they can get, anyway. And after that, they all pack their things and head over to the barn Bobby organized for them. Dean has no idea why somebody would build a hay barn somewhere in the desert, where there's neither cattle nor fields around, but there it is, and it's perfect for their purpose.

They spend the rest of the day graffiting the walls and roof of the barn with wards, but only from the outside; if they did it from the inside, Azazel would know immediately it's a trap and might vanish before they get a chance to even try to kill him. Not that the demon won't suspect it's a trap anyway, but he won't know for sure, and Cas has something in mind that will convince him it's not a trap at least long enough for them to get a good chance at offing him. At first he refuses to tell Dean what his idea is, and that drives Dean nuts, but Cas won't budge until Dean gets truly peeved off. Then, Cas finally gives in and tells Dean his idea.

"What?" Dean demands sharply.

"She's going to have him kill me in exchange for the Colt," Cas repeats quietly.

"No. Absolutely not." Dean is totally against it. No way will he allow Cas to be put in that kind of danger. "You're trying to stay low-profile, remember?"

"And I will stay that way because we're going to kill Azazel," Cas reasons.

"No. No way."

"Dean." Cas takes Dean's hand between his and looks him emphatically in the eyes. "Nothing will happen. Even if Azazel somehow manages to escape, the deal will compel him to seek me out, and we'll definitely get another chance."

Dean opens his mouth to disagree again, but Cas squeezes his hand and adds, "I'm already hunted. It would make little difference if demons were out to get me as well."

Seriously. "Don't lie to me, Cas," Dean orders sharply. "It would definitely make a difference."

"Not effectively," Cas argues. "I'm hidden from both demon and angel eyes, as are you, your brother, and Jess. I can't be found. The only way I could be discovered would be by accident, and I can take care of such immediate threats easily."

Dean shakes his head. "Until your Grace runs out, you mean. Cas, no. I don't want you to do this."

"There won't be any danger involved if we kill Azazel, and we're prepared well."

"What the hell, Cas!" Pulling away, Dean runs both hands through his hair. "A couple of hours ago you freaked out on me because I suggested we tell Bobby, and now you want to tell _the king of hell_? Do you have a death wish or something?"

"No, I don't have a death wish," Cas replies sharply. "But I want to kill Azazel, and not just for you and your family, but because I genuinely want him dead. He has done horrible things and killed many of my siblings. This isn't a self-sacrifice, Dean, it's the best plan of how to convince Azazel that it's not a trap." Taking hold of Dean's shoulders, Cas locks their eyes and won't look away. "We need something that sounds grave enough for Azazel to believe at least for a short time that it could push Mary to make a deal with the demon she hates the most of all."

And fuck, Dean doesn't want to admit it, but Cas is right. He stubbornly refuses to say it, though, just crosses his arms and turns his face away. Cas isn't deterred by that, though; he leans in and nudges Dean's cheek with his nose, then nuzzles him until Dean gives in a little and leans into him. "It's the best plan," Cas tells him quietly. "There'll be no danger involved at all if we kill Azazel."

Dean grunts, bites his lower lip and nods slightly; he can't say it, but Cas is right. Cas doesn't say anything else about it, just kisses Dean gently on the cheek and goes back to vandalizing the barn. After a couple of minutes during which he takes some deep breaths and tries not to scream, Dean tells himself firmly to pull himself together and joins Sam, Jess and Cas.

And then, somewhere between Dean taking a slow sweep of the barn to check whether everything is alright and that no mistakes were made with the sigils (for some of them, one little detail off could totally distort the meaning, which could end very badly for them), and coming back to convince everyone it's time for dinner, Cas's stupid sister Anna arrives.

Okay, maybe she's not stupid; she's here to help them after all, even if that's not really what she wants (not that Dean knows her reasons). But Dean just doesn't like her, and the fact that physically, the body she's in is attractive, doesn't change his opinion one bit. The fact that she hugs Cas like she actually missed him does maybe a little, but not much, because the desperate way Cas clings to her makes it all the more obvious how important she was to Cas at one point, and how selfish what she did was. No, Dean doesn't like her, and he won't pretend he does.

He doesn't act actively hostile either, though, because clearly Cas is more of a push-over than Dean would have thought and acts like nothing is wrong, introducing her to their small band of misfits like he's proud. Except maybe it's not Anna he's proud of but them, Dean suddenly thinks when Cas introduces Dean to her and there's no mistaking the smug pride in his voice, like Dean is awesome and impressive just by standing there and trying not to glare and cross his arms. He clearly is neither of those things right now, because he's hungry and he has specks of paint all over himself because naturally, Sam and Dean can't be around wet paint without getting each other dirty.

"Hey, nice to meet you," Anna says with a nice smile, clearly not noticing the subtext at all, which annoys Dean for some reason. He doesn't know why he wants her to know that he and Cas are fucking each other's brains out regularly (well, at least have been doing that as best as they can for the past two weeks, despite all that's going on), he just does. But at least he's adult enough not to say anything of that to her, or something else less than mature. He even manages not to growl when he returns her greeting with a half-hearted, "Hey."

She smiles at him again and then turns to look at the barn with its purple symbols and sigils scrawled all over it (black and blue had been out, and Cas hadn't liked red). "I see you've done good work here already," she says.

"Of course," Cas replies, sounding vaguely offended. Dean is way more happy about that than he should be, but Cas standing up to that girl is always good in Dean's book, no matter the context.

"Did you bring the knife?" Cas then asks after Anna has had a moment to look over their work.

"Oh, yes, of course." Anna gets the knife out of her purse and offers it to Cas, who gestures towards Jess, who takes it not all that gingerly actually. Maybe she's only squeamish about knives when she's supposed to stab people with them, which is healthy but unhelpful in their context.

"So, how are you?" Cas then asks.

Anna gives a bitter laugh. "Do you care?"

"Okay," Dean interrupts loudly before they can have a siblings' spat in front of Jess and Sam. "No bitchfights before we all got food in our bellies. Let's go."

As they walk towards their cars, Dean for one horrible moment is horrified that Anna is going to want to get into the Impala, but it turns out she brought her own car. A Polo. The only good thing about that is that she's never going to set foot into the Impala now.

They drive to some douchey restaurant, because Sam nags that he has seriously had enough of diner food, and get take-away; Dean doesn't know why they all came along because then they just drive back to the barn and have dinner inside. They pass the time with small talk, and maybe Dean is a bit more anti-social than Sam is used to from him, because he keeps throwing Dean looks. At least Cas doesn't, though Dean doesn't know if it's because he doesn't notice or because he has figured out the reason anyway.

After they've all eaten, Jess and Sam share one look and then excuse themselves to drive away the garbage and get some supplies in the form of food and plenty of water, leaving Dean, Anna and Cas alone.

At first, an awkward silence reins; Cas and Anna don't really look at each other. Finally, Dean has enough and loudly clears his throat. "So, out with it, both of you. What has your knickers in a twist?"

Naturally they don't take this as the permission to go bitch at each other, no. Rather, Cas _apologizes_. The fucker. "I'm sorry I dragged you into this," he tells Anna, honest regret tingeing his voice. "I know you never wanted to have anything to do with this sort of thing."

"Castiel, I grew up with this sort of thing," Anna replies impatiently. "And it's thanks to you."

"Now wait just a damn minute," Dean bursts out, not willing or able to watch this for one second longer. "It's due to Cas that you're even still alive; if he hadn't disobeyed orders in the first place, you would have died before your first birthday. You oughta be grateful to him."

Anna blinks at him, her already big eyes even bigger as she widens them. "You misunderstand me," she then says, looking from Dean to Cas. "I meant that I've always known about this stuff, even before I regained my grace and my memories. But you still always excluded me from this."

Cas is visibly confused. "Anna, you didn't want to have anything to do with your former life," he replies slowly, as if he's wondering whether Anna's memories were recovered correctly. "I just tried to honor that wish."

"It was a foolish dream," Anna replies, sounding wistful, gaze dropping. "I wanted an easy, simple life. What I failed to realize is that there is no such thing. Everything is difficult; it just sometimes doesn't seem like it when you only look at parts of it, and from the outside at that." She looks up, and her face softens when she takes in Cas's stricken expression. "I'm sorry," she whispers, leaning forward to bring their foreheads together. "I'm so sorry that you had to get hurt just because I didn't think things through properly."

"Anna..." Cas flounders for a moment, sounding helpless and small. Dean can't help it; he doesn't want to interrupt their moment (he can recognize a healthy sibling reconciliation when he sees one, and he does not at all begrudge Cas this) but he wants Cas to know that he's there for him, and so he reaches out and squeezes Cas's hand. Cas squeezes back immediately and doesn't let go, and his voice sounds stronger when he says, "It's not your fault."

"If I hadn't..." she starts, but Cas interrupts her.

"But you did. And if I hadn't realized on some level that you have a point somewhere, I would never have considered disobeying, no matter the cost. You know this."

"I do," she whispers, and suddenly they're hugging each other, practically clinging, even while Cas stubbornly refuses to let go of Dean's hand. "I do. I'm so sorry that I got you into that sort of situation."

Dean thinks he might sort of be okay with her after all.

Cas and Anna have stopped crying by the time Jess and Sam return, which is good, because they're not alone; Mary is with them. Her face is already pinched and Sam is radiating frustration, which means there must've been some discussion before they came, and Mary's face turns only harder when she sees who Dean is with.

"Dean," she says, and it's an order. In the past Dean would have scrambled immediately to obey, but that would mean excluding Cas right now, and he isn't ready to do that. Not after how his mom treated Cas.

"Hey mom," Dean thus says nonchalantly as if nothing's wrong. "This is Anna, Castiel's sister."

Anna waves and smiles weakly, obviously picking up on the tension – which isn't all that difficult, honestly. Dean just knows his mom is going to have to say something to that.

She doesn't make him wait for long. "What is this?" she asks sharply.

For a brief moment, Dean considers playing ignorant, but he doesn't give in to the childish urge – this is his mother, after all, and even if he's pissed with her, he still loves her. Besides, this is a pretty emotional situation for the Winchesters; it shouldn't come as a surprise that his mom loses track of everything but the most important goal right now.

So Dean pulls up his shoulders, looks at her and says, "They're here to help."

"This is a family matter," Mary bites; Dean can tell she's one second away from losing her temper, and so he gets up to face her properly.

"I know, mom," he says seriously. "But our family has grown a little. And, honestly, this is the _king of hell_ we're talking about. We need all the help we can get. I want that son of a bitch dead just as much as you do, but I don't want any of us to die in the process."

At first Mary's pinched face doesn't change; then, for just a brief moment she seems to crumble. The expression is gone as quickly as it came, but Dean caught it, as he did the quick glance Mary sends towards Cas. Confused and with a sinking feeling in his belly, Dean takes a step towards his mother. "Mom?" he asks carefully.

"I need to talk to you and your brother," Mary says abruptly, but it's different than if she had said it before; she doesn't want to exclude Cas and Jess and Anna. She has something important to tell her sons.

Sam and Dean share a look and then the Winchesters head out of the barn. Outside Mary hesitates for a moment, so Dean leads them over to the Impala, where he has some food. After Dean has doled out some cans of coke and a couple bars of chocolate, they all sit down next to each other, leaning against the Impala and staring at the blue horizon. Dean bites his lower lip and then gently nudges his mom's foot with his. "What is it, mom?"

Mary takes a deep breath that is obviously meant to be calming, and then she says, "I've met the yellow-eyed demon before."

Dean and Sam share a look. "I gather you don't mean… that day," Sam guesses hesitantly.

Mary throws him a look and lowers her gaze. "No. Ten years… ten years before that day, Azazel murdered my parents and your father."

For one brief moment, Dean wonders if he's gone crazy or accidentally ended up in another universe. But that's ridiculous, he obviously heard right, he just doesn't understand.

"What?" Sam stammers. "I thought grandma and grandpa died in a car accident." That's what Mary told them, at least.

Mary swallows. Her face is pale and she's staring off into the distance, lost in memories; there are tears in her eyes. If nothing else, that chills Dean to the bones. His mom just doesn't cry; she doesn't.

"I know," Mary says eventually, voice small. "I just didn't know what to tell you, I couldn't…" She blinks, and tears fall down her cheeks. "I couldn't tell you that it's my fault your father died."

"Mom…" Sam says, but nothing else. It's Dean who whispers, not sure he really wants to know, "What happened?"

Mary closes her eyes and tells them, tells them that ten years before John Winchester died, Azazel had killed him, and she had made a deal with the yellow-eyed demon. Azazel would revive John and in return he would be allowed entrance into the Winchester home ten years later. He hadn't wanted anyone's soul, and he had promised that no one would be harmed as long as his ritual wasn't interrupted. Mary had said yes.

And ten years later, John, having no knowledge at all that demons even existed, had walked into Sam's nursery and interrupted Azazel.

By the time Mary arrives at this part of the story, she's sobbing uncontrollably, just like she had the day John had died. Dean feels frozen, completely unable to move, to think. Cas had warned him, had wondered why the hell Azazel had been in Sam's nursery in the first place, but Dean hadn't wanted to hear it. "What…" He has to clear his throat. "What did he want? With Sam?"

"I don't know," Mary whispers. Sam makes a muffled noise that sounds like it might be a sob; Mary wraps one arm around him and pulls him in, pressing kisses to the top of his head and whispering how sorry she is. Dean watches numbly for a moment, and then he gets up and crawls around the two of them to Sam's other side, wrapping himself around Sam. He just doesn't know what to think, whether he should be angry at his mom or not. All he feels is grief.

Some time later, Dean doesn't know how long, they've all calmed down a little. Dean just doesn't know what to say; it's not okay, what happened, but he can hardly tell his own mother off, especially not since he and Sam wouldn't even have been born if she hadn't made that deal. At least it explains somewhat why his mom is so adamantly against any type of creature – against demons, of course, they're evil. But Cas is an angel, and while angels in general aren't necessary good, Cas clearly isn't evil.

In the end, Dean decides not to think about it for now; he wraps the issue up tightly and puts it away. There are more important problems at hand right now. "Okay," he says, clears his throat and gets up to get the box of kleenex out of the Impala. "We can talk about this later," he decides firmly, ignoring that his voice is a little more wobbly than he'd like. "Right now, we have a job to do. No matter how it happened, that son of a bitch still killed dad, and today, we're going to kill him in return."

"I want to know why," Sam says, voice wobbling a little too, but the determination is clear in his eyes. "I want to know what he wants from me."

"Mom can ask him," Dean replies.

"Thank you," Mary replies with weak sarcasm.

It reminds Dean that she doesn't even know what's going on. "Oh, right, mom, we have a plan. You're going to summon Azazel, and we'll stay hidden. You'll…" Dean hesitates and bites his lip, because all of a sudden it's an issue. "You'll make a deal with him. You want him to kill Cas, and in exchange you'll give him the Colt."

For a long moment, Mary just stares at him. "You think that's a believable scenario?" she then asks, voice a little hoarse.

"Well, yeah." Dean pulls up his shoulders, but doesn't look away from Mary. "You made it clear that you don't consider him a person."

"I don't," Mary replies quietly, lowering her gaze. "I'm sorry, but I don't. He's not human."

"Yeah, but that doesn't mean he doesn't have feelings," Dean returns, voice a little sharply. Then he sighs and runs a hand through his hair. "Later," he murmurs. They can discuss their issues some other time. "All that's important right now is that Azazel doesn't realize we're here and believes it's not a trap."

Mary takes a deep breath, then nods, and all of a sudden it's all business as usual again. They all get up, pretend their eyes are not red-rimmed from crying, and gather their weapons. Time to kill a demon.

When they get back to the barn they find Cas, Jess and Anna sitting in a circle on the floor, playing what looks like a fierce game of poker, using pebbles as chips. Cas is obviously winning, Dean is not surprised.

They probably notice the Winchesters' slightly wrecked faces, because the barn has electricity, so even the setting sun and the resulting darkness can't change the lighting conditions in the barn. Which technically is a good thing, but Dean would prefer it if at least Anna didn't know they just had a huge crying fest.

No matter, though. The moment of the summoning ritual gets closer and closer; they all go through the plan again and discuss which hiding spots would be strategically best for whom. It's there where Cas surprises Dean again; he seems to be making a habit of that lately. "Anna and I won't need a hiding place," he tells them, "We can turn invisible and stay in the barn. Azazel won't be aware of our presence."

"You can make yourself invisible," Dean repeats, incredulous. Cas and his abilities are starting to make him out more and more like a superhero. "You didn't mention that when you told me what you can do."

"I did say that I have some minor abilities in addition to the big ones," Cas returns raising an eyebrow.

Dean rolls his eyes but doesn't reply, because it's true, Cas had said that. Dean had known he should've asked, but at the time, he had been preoccupied with more important issues.

"What are the big things you can do?" Mary asks, but her voice isn't demanding, but tentative. That's what tells Dean that she's not asking like she wants to know more about him because she considers Cas a potential threat, but like she's trying to get to know him. He's not sure Cas gets that, and he can't really tell him in front of everybody else, but he leans his leg into Cas's and smiles at him a little when Cas glances at him.

After returning the smile, Cas replies shortly, but not unkindly, "Flying, healing and getting rid of creatures." Which is the gist of it, really.

They work out a plan; Jess will stay out of the way the whole time, in fact, she gets to wait in the middle of a devil's trap by the cars with strict orders to scream if anything so much as moves until they're sure Azazel is secure and there are no other threats around. Cas and Anna will be invisible and Dean and Sam will hide outside by each exit as security back-up. Mary will summon Azazel and then she'll lure him under one of the devil's traps they've painted on the roof of the barn. Once he's trapped, Anna will make sure he's secure while Cas will sweep the area, and when it's sure that everything's clear and that there are no other demons or creatures hiding anywhere around, Dean and Sam can collect Jess and join the others in the barn. They'll have a little question and answer session, and then they'll kill Azazel.

It sounds so simple, something just has to go wrong; Dean can't shake the feeling.

 

*

The wait is agonizing.

After they've all had some food, there was no reason to wait any longer; they had moved into their positions, Dean at the back door of the barn. He couldn't hear what was going on inside, only that Cas was speaking, explaining to Mary how to conduct the summoning ritual. Afterwards Mary said some words, the enchantment probably, and then there was silence.

And silence. It's absolute torture; Dean hadn't appreciated just how difficult having to wait would be. Not just because it had been hours already, but because he can't let his guard down; Azazel could appear at any moment and Dean and Sam have to be absolutely silent lest he hear them. The hex bags protect them from Azazel discovering them magically, but nothing could prevent him from hearing or seeing them if they practically threw themselves on top of him.

At several points Dean is just about to talk himself into sitting down or at least taking a stretch, but he can't risk making a noise. So he just tenses his muscle groups one after the other so he won't get stiff and waits. And waits.

By the time something finally happens, Dean half-believes he's hallucinating; several times he had just imagined he was hearing something, voices inside, when he really wasn't. Cas and Anna and especially Mary wouldn't risk alerting Azazel to their presence in case the demon showed up in the middle of one of them talking. So when Dean finally actually hears his mother speak, he almost thinks he's hallucinating, and once he's half-sure he's not, he considers that she's given up with the summoning and laying in on Cas because the ritual didn't work.

Except then a voice Dean has never heard answers, and he just _knows_. It's maybe ridiculous, recognizing a voice you've never heard, but Dean does; he just knows this is Azazel, that he's finally here, that they can get this show on the road. The adrenaline shoots through his body, makes him feel wide-awake all of a sudden when just moments ago he had had trouble keeping his eyes open. He strains to hear what is spoken inside, but the barn is too sturdy to let actual words be heard through the walls. Or maybe it's his heartbeat's fault; it's pounding so loud in his ears, he's terrified Azazel will be able to hear it even though Cas has reassured them that a demon wouldn't be able to hear the normal sounds a living body makes, like heartbeat or breathing, through the walls.

Dean was wrong; the waiting hadn't been torture, _this_ is. Knowing that in there is the demon that killed his father, wanting so desperately to storm inside and just off the son of a bitch, and knowing just as well that if he did, they wouldn't get to do exactly that. Not only that; if he did that, he'd also seriously endanger Cas, because no matter what the angel had told him, there is a lot of danger in having the demons know that Castiel is on Earth, walking around in a human body and cut-off from heaven. Especially if they know he's with Dean Winchester; they'd have to separate because it would be considerably safer, and that just sucks.

No, Dean is going to be patient and ready. So ready, in fact, that he almost shoots Cas in the face when he opens the door to the barn to let Dean know that he can come in. Cas just raises his eyebrow; the angel mojo is practically pouring off him, and it's just hot, how he's practically radiating raw power. Dean would have loved to see Azazel's reaction to him.

When he enters the barn, the son of a bitch is, naturally, putting up a front of being perfectly calm and relaxed. His arms are crossed and he's smirking at Mary, saying something to her about both sons having failed; one abandons the hunter life and buggers off to Stanford, and the other is a fairy, what a shame. Mary doesn't react but for a twitch in her jaw; Dean just doesn't react, period. He knows his mom doesn't give a damn where he puts his dick; they had had that talk when he had been fifteen and nurturing a huge crush on David Bowie. She had known he was bisexual before he had.

Cas returns at that moment from having let Sam know that he can come in; Sam went off to get Jess first. In a way, Dean is glad Jess is here, because with her there to witness Mary will hopefully not indulge herself and torture Azazel just for the fun of it. Not that Dean isn't all for pain being inflicted upon that son of a bitch, but there is a difference between torture for information and torture for pleasure. They haven't crossed the line, and he doesn't want his mom to ever cross it.

"So," Azazel says, spreading his arms, "What now? You've got me."

"We also got a couple of questions," Dean returns, voice hard. His mom hadn't wanted for anybody to speak to Azazel but her, but she can stuff it. This isn't just her issue it's all of theirs, and Dean damn well can talk to Azazel if he wants to. It's not like Dean could be in any more danger anyway; not after the ruse with Mary pretending to make a deal so Azazel would kill Cas in exchange for the Colt. She hadn't gone through with the deal, Dean notes gratefully; she's still holding the Colt. The plan had been for her to not agree to the deal, to maneuver Azazel around until he finally steps under one of the devil's traps, but if there had been no other choice, she would have gone through with the deal. Dean shudders at the idea of his mom kissing that asshole, and then he suddenly realizes that she must have done so before, when he had murdered her parents and John Winchester ten years before John died for the second time.

He violently pushes the thought aside, only then realizing that he's missed whatever Azazel said to him in return. Not that it's important anyway, because at that moment, Sam and Jess enter, Jess a bit tentative and keeping behind Sam, but there's a hard glint in her eyes. Yeah, she's tough; she has the balls to become a hunter herself, if she wants to. Not that she probably will; not when Sam doesn't, but it's the principle of the thing.

But Azazel sees them and smiles widely. "Sam and Jess! I see Brady's matchmaking efforts paid off as well as he claimed."

Sam pales dramatically. "What the hell are you talking about?"

Azazel smirks. "What, you didn't notice that one of your friends is a demon? Sloppy, Sammy, sloppy. Just because you've abandoned the life doesn't mean the life has abandoned you."

"What do you want from me?" Jess demands, trying to step past Sam, but Sam stops her.

"From you? Nothing," Azazel replies, his eyes flicking over her dismissively. "The plan originally was to kill you so Sammy here would stop this nonsense and go back to hunting. I'm sure your mother and brother would have approved," he adds, smirking at Dean and Mary. Then he turns back to Sam and Jess. "I didn't expect you to trust her enough to actually tell her, Sammy."

"Don't call me that," Sam demands, still pale but with fury in his eyes. He and Jess are holding hands, clinging to each other.

"What do you want with Sam?" Mary interjects before Azazel can reply.

Azazel's eyes flick to her. "Ah, sweet Mary. Did I tell you yet you've aged well? Because you have. I was looking forward to sealing another deal with you."

Dean feels sick, and he has enough of this. "Okay, dickhead." He takes a step forward. "I suggest you start answering questions, or we'll start making you." He nods towards Cas and Anna. "You don't think these two are here just for decoration, do you?"

Naturally, Azazel is completely unimpressed. "What, your two cute little fallen angels? Honestly, I'm disappointed. Don't I warrant a bit more precaution?"

Dean opens his mouth to reply, something smartass - because he's fluent in smartass - but Cas is faster. He says something, just one word, a word that is definitely not "Christo", but it makes Azazel's eyes go yellow, and it makes him gasp and twitch. He only loses his countenance for a second, but Dean revels in it. Cas is so getting a blowjob just for that later.

"Cute," Azazel then says, but a bit of the nonchalance has left his voice. "You got any more parlour tricks on you, little angel boy?"

Cas's eyes flick over the demon with arrogant, bored dismissal; Dean isn't even sure it's all just a front, because Cas can do stuff, and he's an angel after all. "I suggest you start answering questions like a good little demon, Azazel."

Azazel sighs and rolls his eyes. "You're all no fun. You want to know what I want with Sammy here?" He smirks. "Why, he's one of my children. Drink any demon blood lately, Sammy boy? You seemed to like it well enough when you were six months old."

Dean feels seriously nauseous; there's a few choking noises from Sam's direction, and then Jess rushes him outside where he gets violently sick. Dean can relate; he's almost there as well, and only the knowledge that he'd leave Mary, Cas and Anna - who can all hold their own, but still - alone with the demon keeps him from doing anything more but swallow compulsively. A quick glance to the side tells him his mom doesn't look much better, but she doesn't look about to run out either.

What truly catches Dean off-guard are Cas and Anna's expressions. They're both pale and wide-eyed; for a moment Dean thinks he might even see fear when Anna glances towards where Sam is, but that can't be true.

"So you gave him demon blood," Cas says, quickly recovering his composure and going back to bored arrogance. "For what purpose?"

Azazel smirks; he has visibly enjoyed their reactions and Dean hates that they gave him even that much. "Now wouldn't you like to know, little angel."

At that point Sam comes back in, face pale and a little waxy, but his eyes are hard. Jess doesn't look much better but she too doesn't show any signs of faltering. "What do you want from me?"

"Had sweet dreams lately?" is all Azazel asks him. Dean is confused, having no idea what that is supposed to mean, and Mary doesn't look like she knows either; Sam, however, obviously does.

"Sam?" Mary commands, but Sam ignores her.

Instead, he turns to Azazel and demands hotly, "How did you know about that?"

Azazel rolls his eyes. "Sam, Sam, Sam. What did you think the demon blood was for? Did you want anymore, because I can-" He makes as if to reach for something, but his movements freeze mid-motion. For a moment he doesn't move, and then whoever is holding him - Cas or Anna, Dean doesn't know - lets go enough for him to be able to turn his face and glare at the angels. "Killing you will be a pleasure," he snaps.

It makes Dean grin, because this is the first time they've gotten to Azazel, that he's let his mask slip. It only lasts a second, then the fake expression of faint amusement and lazy boredom are back, but they all know now that he's not as calm as he'd like to make them believe. Very good.

"Likewise," Cas returns lazily. He then turns his head to address Mary, "Can I kill him now?" Dean is not sure if he isn't just making a show of being under Mary's command; he hopes that's the case, but he's not sure. He makes a mental note to ask him later, and then thinks, vaguely hysterical, that there are really more important issues to think about than that.

His mom actually plays along. She looks Azazel up and down, disgust and hate evident in her face, and says to Cas, "I think we should try to make him tell us what he wants from Sam."

Azazel throws his head back and laughs. "It's far too late for that! Things were set into motion when you made that deal, little Mary. There's nothing you can do anymore but wait and watch my plan unfold."

"What plan?" Anna asks; it's the first time she speaks up. Her face is expressionless, but her eyes betray how much she loathes Azazel. There truly must be some history there.

"That, sweet angel, is for me to know and for you to find out." Azazel smiles at her, sugar-sweet, and then his attention focuses back on Sam. He opens his mouth, a shot rings out, and suddenly there's a hole in Azazel's temple. He freezes, there's some weird glowing of light inside of him, and then the body collapses, demon obviously done.

Dean turns his head to stare at his mom, smoking Colt in her hand. Her hand is perfectly steady, but her eyes are wide and vaguely panicky.

"Mom!" Sam exclaims. "I wanted to know-!"

"He obviously wasn't going to tell us anything useful," Dean interrupts and throws Sam a look that shuts him up for the moment. Then he turns back to their mother, who has at least lowered her arm and is staring down at the empty body Azazel used to occupy with a weird expression.

"Mom?" Dean takes a tentative step towards her, and that shakes her out of her weird reverie. She twitches, looks up and at Dean and says, "I need a moment." Then she turns around and walks out of the barn as if in a daze.

Dean doesn't even consider following her; she obviously needs to be alone right now and they're going to give her that moment. The goal that had driven her for the past eighteen years had just come to pass; she can have as much time as she needs.

It's weird, Dean thinks vaguely. They've been working towards this ever since their father was murdered. He should feel relief, maybe sadness, just something, but all he has is numbness. He vaguely thinks that this was too easy, but it wasn't, not really.

So he does what he always does when his mom leaves and Dean doesn't know what to do; he takes care of Sam. Who has Jess now, but a week ago she didn't even know about demons, so she just can't understand the gravity of what Azazel told them – not that they really do either, because they've never heard of anyone consuming demon blood, but still.

Dean starts to walk over to Sam, but he's distracted by a sudden hissing, and he abruptly realizes that Anna and Cas are whispering furiously. They don't look happy, and Cas is defensive and angry. Throwing a look at his little brother, who is hugging Jess and sobbing into her shoulder, Dean makes for Cas. He catches the last bit of what Cas is saying, "… _you_ would have noticed. There's no reason to scare him."

"Scare whom?" Dean asks, only barely remembering to keep his voice low.

Cas looks at him, but Anna ignores Dean for the moment and says, tilting her head, "You've changed, Castiel."

Cas' expression is rebellious and he pointedly ignores her, turns to Dean and replies, "Sam. Scare Sam."

"Scare him how?" Dean demands sharply. "Is this about the demon blood? What does it do?"

"The consumption of demon blood can enhance a human's mental and physical capabilities," Cas explains. "If imbibed on a regular basis, it can lead to addiction and cause major changes in the body, a person's character and judgment, and the body's abilities.

"There is no way this happened to Sam," he adds hastily when he sees Dean pale dramatically. "Dean." Cas steps closer and puts his hand on Dean's arm. "Sam is fine. There were no lasting changes made, not if he didn't consume demon blood on a regular basis at any point since he was six months old, which I highly doubt. I would have noticed." Stepping even closer, Cas puts his hands on Dean's shoulders. "Dean, I promise you, Sam is fine. I would have noticed."

"He knew what Azazel meant when Azazel mentioned dreams," Anna interjects.

"But that doesn't have to mean anything," Cas retorts with a glare in her direction; this is clearly what they had been talking about before. "It can mean anything, except that Sam has any demonic abilities. He might just have a dormant gift that got activated with the demon blood. It's impossible Azazel gave him much anyway, a six months old baby would never have survived much more than a few drops."

"Are you sure?" Dean asks, voice a little hoarse.

Cas looks back at him. "Yes. I'm sure." His eyes are wide and earnest. "I would have noticed, Dean, you know that I can feel that sort of thing. I didn't feel much more from Sam than I would from any other human; he isn't even on the same level as a low-level psychic."

"Precautions need to be made," Anna cautions.

"Yes." Cas glances at her quickly. "She's right." Cas's mouth twists. "Though it should be self-understood that you don't drink demon blood, period. Sam just needs to especially not drink it, ever. He will be fine. He _is_ fine."

"Okay." Dean swallows and clears his throat. If Cas says Sam is fine, then he must be really sure. He wouldn't keep anything like that from Dean; he probably wouldn't keep anything from Dean, period, at least not without telling him so. But he knows how important Sam is to Dean.

"Dean?" Sam asks, voice wavering. Dean turns to find his little brother a few steps away, looking, of all things, scared. His eyes are wide and pleading, asking for Dean to tell him it's alright, nothing is wrong. Dean knows that expression very well.

"You're fine," Dean says automatically, but he means it. "Everything is fine. That son of a bitch was just trying to scare you."

"Are you sure?" Sam's eyes flicker to Cas and Anna.

"Yes."

"Yes," Cas joins in, and after a second of hesitation, Anna says "Yes" as well.

That's apparently enough for Sam, because the tension seeps out of his shoulders and he heaves a sigh. "What did he mean, then? With the demon blood?"

Cas and Anna share a look, but it's Dean who explains. "If you drink demon blood, it makes you stronger, physically and mentally, but it also makes you an asshole. But you didn't drink any, not as a baby, not now. You're fine."

"At most, Azazel was able to give you a few drops before your father interrupted him," Cas adds, and he's trying to help, but Sam flinches, and Dean too can't hold back a wince.

"So it's my fault dad died," Sam says hollowly.

"It's not," Dean immediately protests, taking a step towards Sam, but Sam steps backwards. "It's not your fault, Sam," Dean says, and now he's pleading, he knows, but Sam just shakes his head.

"It's not your fault," a voice suddenly sounds behind Dean; it's Mary. "If anyone's, it's my fault. If I hadn't made that deal..."

"If you had, dad wouldn't even have been alive to die again," Dean says hotly, turning around to face their mom. "Mom, if you could ask him what he'd prefer; have lived for those ten years, married you and had me and Sam, or to have died the same day grandma and grandpa died, what would he say?"

Mary lowers her gaze. She looks wrecked. "It was selfish."

"Maybe," Dean replies matter-of-factly; she winces. "But you wouldn't have had me or Sam, and dad wouldn't have gotten to live past his twenty-seventh year. Look, whatever plan Azazel had, it's obviously not coming to pass now, so we can stop worrying about it."

Dean knows it's not that simple and when he shares a look with Cas he knows Cas is aware of that as well, but this is not the time to talk about it. They all need some time to adapt; as ridiculous as it is, now that Azazel is dead, it feels like something is missing. And if Dean feels that way, how must his mom feel?

Mary is nodding, her gaze wandering over to Sam, and she strides over and pulls him into her arms again. Dean looks at them for a moment before he turns to Cas, but before he can say anything, his mom calls him over and they have a group hug. They haven't done that since Dean and Sam were children; he doesn't even remember the last time. Not that it matters.

When they pull apart again some time later, all their eyes are a little wet and there might be some sniffling; when Dean looks around he finds Cas, Anna and Jess gone. He hears voices outside, though, so he knows where they went. He isn't going to join them yet.

Sam is the one who asks the question Dean didn't really dare to bring up. "What are you going to do now, mom?"

She pulls up his shoulders. "I don't know." For a moment she looks helpless, but then she straightens and a determined look appears in her eyes. "Going to hunt monsters, what else?"

Yeah. Dean gets the impression that it won't be that easy, but his mom will be okay.

"What about…" Sam swallows. "What if we all take a vacation or something? Just some time off, no hunts, no nothing, just you, me, Dean, Jess and Cas."

Dean holds his breath. He isn't so hot on another vacation, he came just from one, but in a way, he feels incredibly tired, like he could sleep for a few days straight. That's not what makes him tense, though; it's the fact that Sam included Jess and Cas in this vacation idea of his. Dean doesn't at all trust that his mom will be happy with them included.

She isn't. She hesitates, and then she says, "I still don't agree with the fact that you brought Jess."

Sam narrows his red eyes, and Dean quickly interjects before they can get into a fight, "But you are happy that he told her about the family business, right?"

Mary throws Dean a dry look, clearly well-aware what Dean is doing, but she nods. "Yes," she says and then she smiles at Sam and hugs him. "I am happy that you finally told her."

With a small, but real smile, Sam returns the hug and then says, "She believed me, mom. She wants to know about all hunting, she said – she said that she wants to be part of our family."

"The girl's a real trooper, mom," Dean agrees. "She helped us with the hex bags and the sigils – she even stabbed Cas!" Well, not really, but there can't be anything bad about embellishing the truth a little in this case.

Mary raises both eyebrows. "She stabbed Cas? Why the hell would she do that?"

"As preparation," Sam explains. "Demons look like humans, don't they?" Suddenly, he pales. "Did I hear right? Azazel said Brady's a demon?"

Dean shares a look with their mom. "Yeah, he did. Who is this Brady?"

"He's a guy from college, right?" Mary asks. There's no critique in her voice, but Sam obviously still hears it, for he flinches.

"I didn't notice," he whispers. "He meant to kill Jess, didn't he?"

"Yeah," Dean says roughly. Turns out Sam's actually lucky that he told Jess. Who knows what would have happened if he hadn't? They did kill Azazel, yes, but the king of hell surely controls all demons. One of them might still have fulfilled his orders, even without him there to approve.

Without another word, Sam turns around and runs out of the barn. Wildly, he looks around, but Jess and Cas are easy to find; they're sitting around a small camp fire, feeding it with twigs and stalks of the dry, hard grass that grows in tufts around here. At Sam's sudden appearance they look up.

"Jess," Sam says, sounding relieved. He walks over to her with long strides; Jess barely manages to get up before she's enveloped in his arms.

"Sam, what's going on?" she asks gently. The "apart from the obvious" doesn't even need to be said.

"Brady," Sam explains, letting go of her. "I- Azazel said he's a demon. Do you remember? He was the one who introduced us."

"Yeah, it was weird," Jess says, sounding confused. "I was sitting in the library, and he just walks up and strikes up a conversation; I could tell he wasn't even interested in me. That same evening, he drags you over and introduces you to me. I haven't even seen him since. So he's a demon?"

"Azazel said." Sam swallows. "I've seen him. How could I not notice?"

"You didn't expect it," Mary tells him neutrally. "This is what I meant that you need to always be prepared." She sighs. "Running away didn't work for me; I had hoped it would work for you, but to be honest I didn't really believe it."

Sam nods, gaze lowered. "I know. You told me."

Everybody is quiet for a moment, and then Dean clears his throat. "Yes, well. I say we all go and find a bed and not talk or think about anything important until tomorrow."

As if that's going to work with all that happened tonight, but it's sound advice; it's not as if talking about it is going to do any of them any good right now.

The others all agree with varying levels of relief; Sam doesn't look like he'll get any sleep at all tonight but Dean hopes Jess will have a mitigating influence on him. Or at least wear him out so he'll have no choice. That's what Dean's planning for himself and Cas tonight.

"Okay, let's reconvene tomorrow for lunch," Mary decides, and they all file into their cars. They had hidden weapons in and around the barn but Dean is just too tired to even suggest they collect them first; it's not like anybody is going to come here, find and steal them. They can come back and get them tomorrow.

The door of the Impala slams shut after Cas. He and Dean share a tired look and it's only then that Dean really notices that Anna and her little Polo are gone. "Where's your sister?"

A faraway look appears on Cas's face. "She left. I'm not sure she's my sister anymore, to be honest."

"Cas, she came here to help, didn't she? That means she's your sister." Dean waits until Mary and Sam have driven past him before he starts the engine and drives them away. He's not sure he ever wants to see this damn barn again.

"She told me not to call me again, that she's done once and for all with this sort of thing," Cas informs him flatly.

Dean curses. "Seriously? Why did she come at all if she didn't want to?" Not that he's complaining; she was a huge help. Well, she was a help. And okay, he's still complaining. There was no reason to say something like that to Cas, to hurt him like that. He takes back taking everything nasty he ever thought about her back.

Cas looks at Dean. "She did want to come," he says. "She wanted to help me. She would like if we kept in contact. But she doesn't want to be involved in hunting."

Well, that's slightly better than wanting to have nothing to do with Cas, but it's still not nice; not what family would do, especially considering that Anna is practically the only being on Earth who has an inkling of how Cas might feel, what with the being hunted by family and all. Jess did a whole lot better in that department than Anna did, and Jess didn't even know that demons existed, much less is she able to kill one with a little laying on hands.

No, Dean doesn't like Anna.

Deciding to splurge for some reason, he drives Cas not to the next motel but to an actually somewhat fancy hotel; nothing overly posh, but something with a nicer mattress than they're used to, and a bathroom bigger than a small walk-in closet. It even has _room service_ , which Dean considers a definite plus, though by this point they won't get anything from anyone. It's the early hours of the morning.

And despite his previous intentions of fucking Cas into the mattress as soon as they get into their room he ends up doing nothing of the kind. It's because Cas nudges him into the bathroom, where they wash off the day and everything with a long, hot shower. And Cas is all naked and wet and hot, so Dean kisses him lewdly, and all of a sudden Cas is pushing him into the wall, gnawing at his neck and furiously jerking him off. Dean comes before he even knows what's going on, and then he can't even return the favor because Cas jerks himself off immediately afterwards and comes too quickly for Dean to do much more than paw clumsily at his hips.

No matter. Tomorrow is another day.

The next morning, Dean's first thought is _not_ that Azazel is dead and his father avenged. He doesn't really know what his first thought is, because he's too asleep to bother paying attention, but somewhere among his first thoughts is the observation that Cas is naked, and that they're in a clean, nice-smelling, _comfortable_ bed. And Cas has all this nice skin, his back curved because he's lying half on top of Dean, and Dean's hand is right there anyway so Dean starts sliding it up and down his spine. He doesn't know what it is about Cas's back that delights him so, but he really, really likes it.

After a while, Cas blinks lazily; Dean can tell because his eyelashes brush against his chest. And so, just because he can, Dean rolls them around and puts his mouth on top of Cas's, involving him in a languid, lazy kiss.

He doesn't really know he's going to do it until he pulls back and hears himself say, "I love you." Immediately afterwards he feels himself flush deep red and quickly hides his face in Cas's shoulder; he's highly embarrassed, he doesn't even know why. He's said it before, though usually to his mom or brother, once or twice to his girl or guy of the week, and he'd always meant it, but this feels different. Different from family, naturally, but also from his previous relationships; maybe because he knows he won't move away soon, or that he _can_ move away if he wants to.

Maybe it embarrasses him because it's so random, or because there's so much there is to know about Cas still; maybe because Cas didn't say it first, or... he doesn't know. He just doesn't know.

But he means it, he can at least acknowledge it to himself; no chickening out. Dean Winchester is no coward. And, well, he already acknowledged it to Cas, so there's really no point in hiding anymore.

Cas's hand slowly finds its way over Dean's shoulder to the back of his head; carefully, he cards his fingers through Dean's head. For a long time, he doesn't say anything, and Dean can't quite admit that he's waiting for him to say it back – he isn't really, anyway. He's just waiting for Cas to say _something_.

He doesn't, though. Instead, silence reigns between them for a long time, or at least that's what it feels like to Dean. He's more confused than angry, and maybe a little scared, but Cas's hand is in his hair and doesn't stop moving, so it's okay. Maybe they can just forget this ever happened and move on.

Except suddenly Dean hears something, though not words as he expected - instead, there's a sniffle, and then he feels Cas's chest under him hitches for just a moment. Confused, Dean starts to pull away from Cas to look at him but suddenly Cas's arms clamp tightly around him and he's pulled back down. He could fight him but he goes with it for the moment and buries his face back in Cas's shoulder. He does, however, move his arm from where it lies on top of Cas and wraps it around his waist, pulling him a little closer into the curve of his own body. There's another sniffle, and Cas's breathing is controlled calm; it's that which clues Dean in that his initial suspicion was right. Cas is actually crying.

It's disquieting; Dean doesn't understand at all what's going on. What he said, it's not something that's supposed to make anyone cry, and they can just pretend it never happened if it upsets Cas this much, but that doesn't make any sense at all to begin with. If Cas were uncomfortable with the sentiment, he would say so. He has a slight bluntness problem anyway, when he's not trying to dupe unsuspecting citizen for the sake of a hunt.

No, Dean is completely confused. He doesn't make another move to distance himself from Cas, though, just lets the angel hold him tight and listens to him sniffle, feels his chest hitch every now and then. At least Cas isn't holding his breath; Dean really had hated when he had done that, that other time. Which had been immediately after they had had sex for the first time, and Dean suddenly starts to recognize a pattern.

Only not really, because sex and declarations of emotions don't have much to do with each other, do they? Dean hadn't said it after they had had sex either, though technically he said it before they have sex, because they're definitely going to have sex in the future. Or at least Dean hopes so, and he can't think of any reason why that wouldn't come to pass.

He just doesn't get it, and so, after a while, he quietly asks, "Cas?"

Cas doesn't move for a moment, and then he takes a deep breath and clears his throat. His voice is still hoarse when he says, "Yes?"

"Why are you not alright?" Dean asks, because "are you alright?" seems pretty obsolete right now. Cas clearly isn't.

Or maybe Dean's wrong, because Cas says, "I am alright," and his voice is full of conviction and relief and- _gratefulness_. Dean doesn't know at all what to do with _that_.

"Okay, so... what's with the... you know?" Dean hitches up his shoulder. He's blunt a lot of the time, even when he really shouldn't be, so he's glad that he managed to not say "crying" or "tears" right now, because Cas clearly didn't want him to see, so he'd probably uncomfortable if Dean directly addressed it instead.

"I... Dean, you're such a _gift_ ," Cas says, and Dean flushes again. Because seriously, who says something like that?

"After I told you and you- you were angry, I understand that, and you had the right, but I don't know what I could have done different, and that made it even worse, that we were both right, and that still... I was so worried you wouldn't want to... be with me anymore. And when you still wanted to hunt with me I was so happy, I thought I can't possibly ask for more, but that doesn't mean I didn't _want_ more, and then you... we... and I thought this is it, you know? This is as good as it gets. And it was good, it was the best, and I was so grateful that you didn't... that you were mostly okay with me being not human. That you still saw me as a person and that you weren't repulsed by the idea that this isn't really my body. I'm still thankful. But now you... I keep thinking it can't get any better, and then you say something or do something and suddenly it _is_ better, everything I wished for since the first day I met you, and I just... I'm not really sure I won't wake up one day and it will all have been a dream or something. Nobody ever wanted me like this, and nobody even told me something like that before, it's just so much." Cas clears his throat. "I wish I could say I didn't know I needed it or wanted it, but I did, I did, and I'm so thankful that you're giving me this without reservations or stipulations."

"Dude," Dean finds his voice after a moment. "That's what... this sort of thing is about. There aren't supposed to be any conditions. And what..." Mid-sentence, he suddenly has an epiphany. "That's what your family in heaven was about, right? Reservations and stipulations. There was always something that kept you from really letting go."

"Yes," Cas acknowledges quietly. "I never even realized until not so long ago."

How can Dean not ask? "How long ago?"

"When..." Cas hesitates. "When you said that, just now. I meant it when I said I never thought you'd... thank you, Dean."

"You're not supposed to thank someone for that," Dean replies, embarrassed.

"I don't see why not," Cas argues, playfully petulant, and Dean could let the serious business discussion slide over into something a lot less difficult, but there's something he needs to ask about before he can do that.

"What did you mean, when you said… since the first time you met me?"

Cas is quiet for a moment. "I think you sometimes significantly underestimate the impact you have on people, Dean."

Oh, he does not. "No way. I'm awesome and I know it."

"Yes," Cas agrees quietly, but then he sobers up. "You're very, very warm, Dean, and very welcoming and accepting. It's like you… you have so much to give, and you have no hesitation giving it when you can, and sometimes even when you can't."

"Cas," Dean says quietly, a little helplessly; what does one say to something like that?

"The first time I met you," Cas elaborates, "You were in a fight with Ellen about telling Jo how to protect vampires. I could tell immediately that there was a lot of love between the three of you, even though you were arguing; you are protective of Jo, and you try to ensure her safety even if it gets you in conflict with Ellen. It intrigued me, because I know Ellen doesn't… she's friendly – well, her kind of friendly – with a lot of hunters, but I've never seen her include one in the family like she obviously does you."

"Is that what you mean?" Dean asks, a little confused. Of course he and the Harvelles are close; he and Sam spent a lot of time at Ellen's.

"No," Cas confesses. "What really… do you remember, in the car? You introduced me to all this music, not because you wanted me to agree with you that it's great music, or because you didn't want to talk to me, or because you wanted to make a point that you are the boss in your car. You just wanted to _share_. Share something that brings you joy, and you wanted me to gain joy from it as well, but there was no sense of pride – well, there was pride, but not the kind that gets hurt if I don't like something you enjoy. You were proud to have something great to share with me. And you didn't even know me."

"I really don't get what you're trying to say here, Cas," Dean admits after a moment of thinking about what Cas said.

"I'm not saying that I fell in love with you then," Cas tells him. "I'm saying that I… I wanted to be there for you to share things with. I wanted to be something that brings you joy too. I was so happy when you actually gave me your copy of Lord of the Rings, when you hadn't just said it as a spur of the moment thing but really meant it." Cas pauses for a moment, and then he adds, "And honestly, I sort of wanted to have you even then."

"Okay." Dean shifts a little and rubs his cheek into Cas's shoulder. "You do, sort of." Not completely, though. Dean would never be comfortable truly belonging to a person; he belongs to himself, and also to his mother and brother. To Cas too, but they're just as important.

"No more than I'd want," Cas replies quietly.

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this last year as my NaNo story after having spent years thinking about it, and I've fretted so much over this I can't even tell anymore. I hope you enjoyed this.


End file.
